And the journey begins
From the land of 10,000 10,000 mile high clouds
Drenching jungles and shores of ancient coral gardens
Long since harvested from the sea
Where they plant the love of their country in foreigners row by row by row
Where bananas resemble mashed potatoes and are served with onions
Where people can name the entire Yankees roster and have never kicked a soccerball
And yes my feet are tired
Because flip flops, like the government, offer little support
And who knows when I'll get the last grain of sand out of my hair
Or when the ringing in my ears from trumpet blasts will finally fade
Or the taste of unavoidably ingested bug spray will finally stop burning the back of my throat
my speedo tan lines will likely be the first to go
But all the myriad lessons internalized (read: only spray yourself with bugspray out doors)
All the friends friended with zero electronic interference (like the turtle hatchling I held or the man who volunteers years of his life protecting them for results that likely won't be seen in his lifetime)
Will live inside me forever
For, ever will my journey continue
Until we meet
And I can share them all with you
We can feast on them together
And they can maybe one day help you grow
like a mangrove tree
and harbor ideas of love in your roots like baby fish
And maybe if you're lucky, even taste the bug spray for yourself