Xenophiles

Spin the globe and let’s see where we start
I’m eager to see, to hear, to learn.
Show me snow-capped mountains
Off the walls of hidden towers,
Help me climb the ancient trees
Whose flavours I never encountered,
Clad in clothes I never touched,
My belly full of flavours
I never knew could be cooked.
Teach me the languages of the world,
Of the past, present and future,
So many of them that I learn instead
To understand the language of silence,
Of the breaths and heartbeats
That hide between the lyrical sounds.
Bring me down to the meadows and rivers,
Let me kneel in front of the gods
Whose names history itself forgot
And laugh in the face of their judgments,
Hidden beneath the armour of cultures
That long predate their creation.
Lay me down on the grass, on the stone,
On the rubbery, broken streets of the world,
And let me learn in the depths of your eyes
The name and position of new constellations.
Yes. Show me so much the Heavens above
And the Hells below give up chasing after,
Until we know all of this world and,
Still hungry, always hungry, we sneak
Through the cracks of reality,
Like all writer, all readers before us,
Go savour and bask in new images,
New sounds, new feels, new tastes,
And then go create some more.
Lifetimes are never enough to satisfy
A love of foreign as deep as ours.

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