As the story unfolded,
visions of my immigrant grandparents filled my head.
Stepping by lady liberty to an unknown future their
memory haunted my thoughts.
My past life in a gypsy village finally uncovered
the simple traditions of soul.
The sound of Yiddish, the mesmerizing klezmer music
made my ancestral past a palpable thing.
The bonding of men and women in love have
strengthened or broken the bonds of every family
I am in the land 0f dreams and sunshine.
My present home warm with expression.
Purified by that arctic wind of change.
Far from my remaining family, a separation
I caused by taking the less traveled road.
As they gather this weekend without me,
makes the traditions of soul I create with
strangers that much more important.