"The Crossing" - Bahamas AI Art
©A. Derek Catalano
The Crossing
The salt wind bites, a lonely, ancient song,
Across the waves where all my hopes belong.
The wooden hull, a fragile, trembling trust,
Against the sea, a world of sun-bleached dust.
I left behind the mountains, worn and green,
A life of hardship, painted in a scene
Of fading light and shadows, long and deep,
A promise that my family could not keep.
The earth was tired, and hungry was the air,
A silent burden more than I could bear.
Now stars above, a map I cannot read,
Just whispers of a future, sown like seed.
The sun, a fire, burns into my skin,
A different world I pray to enter in.
I dream of streets where labor finds its worth,
A harvest far from my own native earth.
For every step, for every aching bone,
A prayer is sent to a world I've never known.
I'll trade the fields for concrete, hard and gray,
And work my fingers raw throughout the day.
To trim the lawns, to build the rising walls,
To answer every single foreign call.
For here, they say, the dollars gleam and shine,
A single note worth more than what was mine.
And in my mind, I count the value won,
For every hour beneath this foreign sun.
This is the price for futures yet to be,
A sacrifice I make for you, for me.
I'll send it back, a lifeline, silver-bright,
To buy a future, to kindle hope's new light.
A child's new book, a meal to fill a plate,
To change the harsh and unforgiving fate.
My hands are bruised, my back is bent and sore,
But in my heart, I know it's worth much more.
I am the bridge, the link, the steady hand,
That builds a life in that far distant land.
©A. Derek Catalano/Gemini
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