Letter to My Sister on her Travels

Dear Sis,

The India photos are stunning;

I can almost smell the aromas and rank odors

and hear the voices of washing women, holy men

and cows echoing demands across sacred water.

I visit your webpage and I feel you – right there,

deep in the village in Botswana -shutter flashing,

gracious smiles of women who open their homes

and feed you their fattest grubs;

a delicacy they’ve waited all year to feast upon,

saving the best for you, and presenting with hands

like skin-draped branches, old and gnarled at twenty two.

It’s like looking through the eyes of your soul

reflected in the faces of strangers;

dark, wise faces, open, cautious faces,

faces with only hope to lift them.

It will be good when you’re back.

We can walk our dogs beside the river

like we did in the spring, laughing

about our expectations and dreams

knowing anything might happen.

I want to see the person that,

with a lens

and a suitcase

and a curiosity about people in other worlds,

especially the women,

sought the woman

inside herself.

I have seen her many times

so I know who and where she is

But I just want to ask,

Did you find her?