You left home
When you were seventeen
In your gray Honda Civic
With the Buckethead sticker in the window
You would call home crying
In need of money
I’m ashamed to recollect
Mom and dad laughing at your distress
Over a decade has lapsed
Since last I saw you
and I remember you sitting cross-legged
On the living room floor
Playing your white guitar and
Singing softly to yourself
Or how when we were kids you could
Mimic any melody on your violin
It’s like you were in harmony with the unseen
Composing a symphony of what you wanted life to be
You were so talented
But no one took notice
Kind and gentle gypsy
Unchaperoned
When your bike was stolen
After you crashed
Skin torn open to bone
You couldn’t walk
Mom slapped you
Now you trek into the jungles of Colombia
You pull back the veil of a strange Earth
Sleep on the sands in Hawaii
And make friends with the birds
Just like Robinson Crusoe
I don’t know if you are
Running or searching
Explorer
Surveyor
I would never have imagined
The most timid person of my childhood
Would become the bravest
Devotee of beauty
While you
Set your slender foot on
Your next destination
I hope your calypso
Has brought you peace
Years pass between
Letters with foreign stamps
As you dance
To the baton of a conductor
Only you can see
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