My mind traverses the continent with you.
It glides in mid-air across cirrocumulus clouds, strolls through mist-filled
streets in-between red-brick walls, and sits
by the window looking out to a collegiate gothic tower.
As you turn the wind-coat collar to the cold and damp,
shower in the golden sun rays among squirrels and water birds,
water your highs and lows with liquor and laughter,
fire intellectual debates with grey hairs and white beards across formal dinner tables…
I wish my mind could still be with you.
It amazes me how the flip of a coin
united us on a tiny, steaming island verging on the equator.
Together the disparate strands of threads weaved a tapestry,
with tropical gold, adolescent green and affectionate red.
For one another we guarded against demons and beasts,
even when stress and conflict of interests bared their teeth;
but now, a flip of the same coin turns the page,
and what brought us together sets us miles apart.
Fret not, my friends,
we are not that far away even when a virus preys!
London bridge, castles, and scones,
Statue of liberty, chapels, and burgers are both made of
steel, flour, and stones.
As we spread our wings in the sky of knowledge,
and the future shines bright on the horizon,
let us raise a glass to the good old days,
where we ploughed with pens and harvested stars.