19 Poem by RIC BASTASA

when i get to be an old man
i shall not speak of any regret
about the past that i buried
in the silent city of my ancestors

i carry with me a poem in my heart
as i look forward to the coming of the black horse
that will carry me to the shore
and i shall wait for the boatman
to carry me to another island

my heart is expectant like a child
waiting for mother from the market
like a man in love waiting for his woman
under the trees beside a silvery river
under the moon kissing and knowing
beforehand destined eternity.