Left Behind

I’ve been left behind
by the sugar canes and plátanos
of my patria.
They’ve moved on
to where they’ve always been.
I’ve been left behind by the warm
waters of the Caribe.
They've moved on
to where they've always been.
I’ve moved on to the cold waters of the West.
A West that keeps moving on
never leaving me behind.
A West of burning mountains,
of trembling lands.
A West full of appearances and deserts,
without a soul.
I’ve been left behind by my very own soul,
a stranger to myself,
to all.
And so I trudge Westward with my new empty home
which will never be my home.
Never leaving her behind
being left behind by my own soul.