Les Mots IX - Arqueología de un botín

To a-once-fourteen-year-old-boy called Josh.  

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

I summon up remembrance of things past

I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought

And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste

... But if the while I think of thee, dear friend,

All losses are restored, and sorrows end.

- Sonnet XXX

I have unearthed a name
Like a lost treasure
I'd been searching for
for decades

I have unearthed a name
After many painstaking and failed quests
I turned to a different kind of compass
to help me find the right spot
I was close
But I almost merely stumbled upon it
in the end

But I did unearth the name
I have salvaged and restored it
for that Her within me
who lost is so long ago

That name she never got to smile hello to
That name she almost chose
not to kiss goodbye

I have unearthed that name
for that Her within me
who didn't know
how to look into the eyes of its bearer
For that Her within me
who didn't know how to use her voice
as a messenger
for a tantamount heart

I have unearthed that name
for that Her within me
who was too afraid
and too young
to know her own worth

I have unearthed The Name
I have salvaged The Voice
restored The Face and The Gaze
and recovered all those gestures
that I didn't remember
that I didn't remember anymore
But knew right away

I have unearthed a name
Not the first name
but the last
The exact coordinates that revealed
the map I'd been missing
for far too long
And have found perhaps too late

I have unearthed a last name
The First Name I have dwelt in
all along