Previous Life

In my previous life,

I was a caretaker.

Maternal to the bones,

soft like spring water.

I braided hair, fixed meals and healed wounds.

I fed babies with my breasts.

I quietly and skillfully ran the household.

I was deeply loved by my family.

I had a tasteful small garden.

It was my eden.

In the afternoon,

when kids and pets are napping,

I would read and write in my garden with a cup of mint tea.

I had a partner that made me laugh.

He was my best friend.

He played hide and seek with the kids for hours.

He read to them before bed.

Occasionally, he would mail me a letter and share a secret with me.

He started building me a greenhouse.

He knew just when to hug me tight and shut me up.

I knew I could trust him.

We were a great team.

For a while, I was looking for him in this life,

thinking I am meant to continue this game with him.

I am only interested in playing this game with my best friend.

I am exhausted looking for him.

He is nowhere to be found.

I woke up in the middle of a dream,

with the thought:

maybe in this life,

I am meant to play his role.

It is my turn to be my best friend.