One of my most personally significant discoveries of the last few years was finding a musty, oversized folder containing hundreds of pages of poetry, compositions for the mandolin and short stories– all penned by my grandfather Evangelos. I never knew the man, given he had passed away many years before I was even born. The harrowing stories from his life that I had heard –accounts of struggle, hunger, sickness and sadness- were washed away by the contents of this folder. These are thoughtful words– words of hope, ambition and love, all penned by my grandfather during the 1920’s while a university student in Paris. Though the discovery was a touch bittersweet given the life he foresaw never quite eventuated, they remain a testament to the spirit of his youth, his considerable writing talent, and a true inspiration.

Visiting

Wake, father!
Daybreak has gilded the sky and this black earth rises from slumber
You rise, too, that we might listen to the morning birdsong.

It was in this hour you used to pray
I recall the whispers from behind closed doors
Even as the church bell tolls- why must you still sleep?

Is your sleep so peaceful, the dream so sweet?
I was just a child when you left me to rest
Left me to become a man on my own

Tell me-
Should I fly to your dream, too?
Would I be happier there?

Happier than where the days take me now
A flower for you, a flower for mother
Waiting. Waiting for your return

                                                            -2nd August, 1929

Ezy Reading is out every month.