From Another Level

Often I think of myself in another place and time
Where the sun blistered my skin red
And everthing made sense.

Granted the grace of visions now
Taking myself back to my life--
But it is not enough.

For to touch the icy foam of the Pacific waters
And to see brown-skinned children play in the street;
I absorb the sunlight like water to a flower's roots
Yet it is still cold.

My friend said 'You will come back--
This is your home.'
Even then, I did not comprehend
The meaning of the word 'impossible.'

Children grow up, people die.
My own life passes by so quickly
When I am not in it.
The years are dotted only with
Cemeteries and broken dreams.

If my toes never again touch the sand
I shall weep tears of blood in my memory.
No one could possibly understand.

'I am only alive, I am only whole
On my Streets of Fire...'
The bad memories I can deal with--
It's the good memories that leave a hole in the heart.