What Will Happen

What Will Happen

What’s like to be stranded in a place surrounded

By foreign language and echoes of history

Will fear envelope you? Maybe not.

Will you be like a child, free

To roam with pocketful of whims?

A universal mind, a child with no habits

With a dimension of willingness

To try, to listen, to ask questions:

How do you say hello, good morning

What ‘s your name? I’m hungry.

Gestures lead conversation and laughter

What will happen?

Complicated things will become simplified

Pull a string, turn a knob, a story will open

In ruins or splendor, devoid of boredom,new

A genius of a child,

Poor or rich, afraid or fearless

Forever curious, sometimes naughty.


One voice rises

Above all the mingling of street voices:

Sunset is coming.

Come, share our table

Simply feel at home, my friend.



edge of the pond

Rhythm of reading

certain passages aloud

alternating from a book

each of us is reading.


Alternating passages

shared emotions imagined

unlike intimate conversations

devoid of gossip.


Evening, after dinner, together

reading, sharing passages

as if touring

new city on our own.


Sometimes, somewhere, each

of us is tempted to substitute

words, for words in the original

to suit color and meaning we seek.


Are we capable only of living

our cultivated way of living?

Are we reluctant to part away

from our “imaginative comprehension”?


The hardest step is the first

curious soul in our hands

not unlike children on the edge

of the pond playing with tadpoles.