049: It is not lost on me.

Recorded: Sunday 15th of April, 2024

Location: Sao Vicente, Madeira, Portugal

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Poem: I will not be lost.

There is a man below attending to the potatoes,

There is a woman above, she lost her footing.

A man in the hospital waits to greet me with a smile,

The family laughs at my expense. I laugh. It's contagious.

Too far from home, I lost count of the miles.

The counting never stopped. It mustn't stop.

The moment the count stops, I'll be lost.

I see it all the time. Lost people. In a lost world.

Watching motorbikes defy gravity, 10 inches from death.

Windy roads, brakes that work, most the time.

At least when I need them. That's all that matters.

The ocean never stops talking to me.

I keep staring at the horizon, are you on the other side?

There is a dozen sides, I hope you're on the one I'm looking at.

I never knew my north from east, nothing goes south.

I'm looking for west, for wins, for wonder.

She calls. Twice in the morning. She's sweet.

"Is Pasta, okay?" Mr Man, of course it is.

He calls, once in the evening. Assuring the dream is alive.

She misses me in the evening. She's over the horizon.

He walks with a limp now. The strongest man I know.

Are his days ever dark? They must be.

Every sunset turns to dark. The sky never sleeps there.

These two legs of mine. Remind me of everything.

I keep stumbling. Guessing. Falling.

The path isn't clear. I can't see the path.

I returned their map. I'm drawing my own.

I'm not lost. Because I can't be.

The most beautiful thing I heard,

was from a man I admired.

He talked of life and said,

"the magic is not lost on me."

I went on, knowing, living.

i'll never be lost. I can't be.

It is not lost on me.

It is not lost on me.

The magic, the love, the effort,

the enduring, the hardship,

the goodluck, the trying, the care.

All of this, is not lost on me.