Unknown Family

I imagine, without pause nor ricochet,
that between my veins, run your adventures,
your voyages to Cuba, draw the circuits of my blood,
in my cranium, your daily gymnastics exercises,
and that famous ski-jump in the jumps of my neurons, thinking of our adventures,
as if the two generations that were your sons and granddaughters, that fulfill
the puzzle of my genes- don't exist
dividing our time.

The lives, of the steps, of the houses, of your childhood
inspire me to play the fantastical
stories that were your life, in the narrated atmosphere of everybody else:

A similar atmosphere, I choose to believe,
in the frenzied energy of the four branches
again in the same trunk, stroked up in the cabins of Budor,
between languages and varied nationalities
we introduce ourselves as family, strangers of a same
last name, perhaps lost in the waves of an ancestral tree,
entrenched to a farm surviving time,
beaming over the lashings of distance;
Between shimmies and songs
that I cannot begin to understand, I live your
danced and mixed spirit
with my thousand roots grounded to no land.

I Imagine, without pause nor ricochet,
sympathy and loyalty
uniting us, creating something more that a weekend;
I Imagine, that carrying your unknown ghost
in my backpack, I will become the wind's
breath of your country and the sun's
laughter of my own- together
between the blonde hair and my tanned freckles.