I could not find my way there
easily. Creeping along, I finally clambered onto our paradise.
I’ve heard the fables of painted warriors
and sagas that slithered along pages.
But all I saw was a horde—
writhing through the sea. A fleet of locusts trampling
over, cutting tongues,
twisting our names. They left
the island behind like a quilt
woven with foreign filament.
Can I say
this
is mine?
That which has been so changed?
It was a tempest—
a vortex draining across continents.
It was an eclipse—
on the cusp of two worlds.
Can I say
this
is mine?
I was scared to face this chimera alone.
But from the storm I heard
a quaint melody. It was the sound
of our sweet serenades,
the laughter of cousins, and the stories of elders.
They are a lighthouse
tearing apart the void.
This time, I opened my eyes. I see
my family swaddling me
with our languages and traditions
like a warm shower after a cold night.
I have always been home.
This
is mine.
GIUSEPPE JOSHUA LOPEZ completed his undergraduate degree at the University of Toronto but has recently re-enrolled as a non-degree student. While taking an English course, Josh discovered his newfound interest in creative writing.