Throne. (part two of the Mini moments poem)

Walking around the streets to the rhythm of the traffic as the cars go by faster than time itself

Weather getting warmer, fashions becoming more liberal, soon it will be time for skirts and shirts.

But keep the umbrellas on standby just in case the sky changes it’s mind and decides to cry

Each and everyday silently wondering why as if there has to be a reason for everything that occurs 

Like there is some sort of answer to be preferred to make these thoughts seem less absurd 

Perhaps it’s cabin fever stirring desires to a escape, the ultimate break far from the familiar and old. 

Walking around the same streets day after day, the wind is blowing the cherry blossoms 

Stroon along the sidewalk, scattering them around like old memories of the year before 

Spectals glinting in the summer sun, get all dressed up just to see if you would smile 

That was enough at the time, even for the shortest while 

Practicing new languages with you for brief moments at a time, or else bring you a reminder of home

Just to hear you talk about the place where every seat was your throne 

How you reminded me of a time far away when I would run down the street in a foreign land, listening to a difficult language in awe at the new sounds, where every seat felt like a throne, and opera was always playing on the radio or car stereos.

Flashbacks to those mini moments I once knew when time was limitless and worries were non-existent, minus the fear of getting a spot of dirt on my shoes or if there was a tear in my dress

Playing football with that boy as he spoke a language I never knew, but now realise it is divine 

Back to the present and I walk down the streets in a different land, where no sound is profound or set to astound

The merest hint or sign to reveal and remind of the place where every seat was like a throne, a place possible to call home.

Walking down the streets with you in mind now, only to realise it was nothing in reality, just those feelings playing tricks – reminding me of mini moments of a childhood I dismissed 

Now I learn the language I ignored, only to end up full of worship and adoration for a nation

What were you but just a reminder, of a time far more sublime

Reminders are everywhere as I surround myself in them without a care, though it took a tradgey to make me see just how much those times meant to me.

 Walking down the streets, daydreaming what I secretly wanted it to be, with so many months past, yet there you are occupying my mind, even though you left long ago

Hopefully to return to the place where every seat was your throne 

As for me it is here where I will stay, temporarily I hope, until the time comes I too can find a proper place to call home, where every seat can also be my throne, though I already know the nation, a childhood cannot be recreated, but at least the chance is there to try

Because the reminders still linger on and continuously call me to go find the right seat that will feel like a throne in a place I can finally call home. 



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