10 years ago , Lady Pegasus was the name
I travelled from Iceland to France
and the Netherlands
In Iceland ,
I took a bite of a glacier Ice
hiked the mountains
in the same trusted hiking shoes I wore in Spain
I witnessed many hot geysers gush out of the land
I rode the Nordic horses with 5 gaits
and drove across the volcano land
In Paris, I changed outfits
changed hiking shoes to ballet shoes,
walked around museums and
cathedrals in dresses and jeans
savored pastries and croissants
and followed the paths of great writers and painters
It was in Seine that I listened and danced
to the impromptu music under the bridge
made by people who took refuge from the rain
I travelled to Beaune and Burgundy to visit the wine country,
tasted the wines and visited vineyards
that are at the climate's mercy
I found myself in a medieval hospital
mesmerized by architecture of the 15th century
built during the time of Duke Phillip the Good of Burgundy
After the 100 years war,
a hospital was made
as a refuge of the poor and the sick
during the time of plague
I remember the snails I had for dinner
I remember the art installation projected on ancient church walls
I remember the mustards of Dijon
I remember walking on
the medieval winding road's cobbled stones
I remember the bullet train that took me
from Paris to Amsterdam
where I visited the house
of a young girl who wrote a diary
I remember how embarassed I felt
when tears just flow when I saw all of the sunflowers of Van Gogh
I remember the crispy fries dipped in mayo
and Rembrandt's Night Watch huge painting in Rijk's museum
That was 10 years ago.
I returned to Brooklyn
and made a Blog
I named it Lady Pegasus
to write about my adventures
I wrote a few lines
but nothing came out
My mind was suddenly blocked
like it was not yet the time
many years later,
the urge to write suddenly came
I changed the name
but Lady Pegasus and Cherry Rhymes
are one and the same
It takes a woman's patience to understand
what it takes and what is at stake
That is why I woke up at dawn
tied up my trusted hiking shoes
to walk up the mountain in the dark
because one cannot ignore the sounds
of the ticking clock.
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