Bold and Mighty

We were young
But we knew life
Or thought we did
Since our eyes were so full
Of the places we’d been
Of the things we’d seen
We came from all over
Some of our worlds had colours
Dances and smells
That others called exotic
Worlds of needs and ironic beauty
Others had known holidays away
Cities of light, towns of family lands
Secondary houses with sunny terraces
Others had built something
A home, a career
An entire universe
That kept on breathing
And waiting
Something to go back to

For most of us though
The life ahead stretched
Like a maze of unknown and possibilities
Nothing felt eternal
Not love, not friendships
Not the wild projects
We devised in the midst
of noise and alcohol
On a crowded student street at 3 AM
Not the small rooms
That never became home
‘ Cause somewhere down the line
There would be bags to pack
New chapters to write
New places and people to miss

We were making stories
Anecdotes for a future of galas
Networking events, coffee breaks
Or story times at remote villages

Thorn between seizing the day
And waiting for real life to start
We dreaded and welcomed
The end of this hiatus
For some of us,
There would never be again
So blessed a time
For others, would sound
The death knell of months spent
Outside looking in
Withering in the margins

But no matter how we inhabited
The towns and cities whose air
We breathed
Or how we lived through
The cold, the rains,
The burning of the sun
The iciness of people
Deep down,
We all hoped to come out the other side
A bit freer, more grown
More “marketable”
Hopefully more human

We came from all over
Dreaming of a better,
Brighter future
But who could really say
Of what threads
our tomorrows would be woven?

Magdalee Brunache

Poem inspired by my Master study experience