Where are all the Michelangelos gone?
The Greek sculptures of glowing, exuberant, healthy men and women,
the blossoming and naivety of Renaissance paintings,
and the enchanting houses of fairy tales
that mother used to read to me as a child?

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It’s been a while
since we don’t gather all together.
Perhaps it’ll take some more.
In the company of the air I breathe
I remember the moments
of calmness by the fire
and the sittings by the sea,
all of us merging the souls and sharing the spirits.
There was glee in the simplicity, it was soul food.
But I can’t tell
whether this is past or future,
or even present.

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