The Stardust

I set my finger in the stardust
And traced a winding line
The path of my ancestors
Tracked from the dawn of time

Sparkles winked as the line took form
And glinted in my eyes
Past and future were one and same
Freedom wakened in my mind

Then all my worldly thought of want
Was set upon the scales
Only light and peace remained
The end of all travails

What wonder then, that we are light
And left here all alone
Pray forgive you brother’s sin
As he forgives your own

Then on that day we all repent
We’ll raise our eyes and see
The sky will rend and Heaven return
And we, once more, stardust will be

Going Home Again

We may not go back and start over

No matter how deeply we mourn

For the world we would find

On our journey's return

Would not be the one whence we're borne.

Ochoa

Going Home

I was just passing through my childhood hometown
And noticed the old school was razed to the ground.

The path I had trod from my home to its doors
Was paved over
and painted
and not there anymore.

Nostalgic, I followed the now missing path
In hopes it would take me someplace in my past.

A place where the sky rang with laughter and shouts
And we chased one another in mystical bouts.

Bouts of wonder and fancy, of Kings and their pawns
But the path to that moment was paved over and gone.

And there in its place were realities pains.
The sum of existence in losses and gains.

And the anguish rose up in my throat in a rush
As my sum was the balance of dreams that were crushed.

I stood on that path now paved over and gone
And my tears stained its paint as I wrote down this poem.