Tomatoes

I want to eat tomatoes in my great grandfathers garden, And connect to my family in ways I never have before, And experience the heritage of being Bulgarian, And Shepard my younger siblings, As the Shepard herds the sheep in the village. I want to dance flamenco with a girl in Spain, And hear the rrrrrr sound roll off her tongue, And fall in love while on my travels, And write a postcard of it all home to mom. I want to sing a tune on Broadway, And tell a story of coming of age, And inspire the audience to awe in life's largeness, And admire the path that they chose anyway. I want to laugh with lifelong friends, The ones who don't know your career nor care, And huddle around a crackling fire, And talk for hours in wooden chairs. I want to sprint as a fast I can, With friends and strangers by my side, And feel the sun rise spark our mornings, And start the day with a roosters cry. I want to teach all that I've learned, And write and speak to willing crowds, And feel the moment of eureka, That one such student may have found. I want to listen to the Beatles, While driving down the interstate, And gripping tight my fathers hand, As he did to mine when I was eight. I want to thank those who've blessed me, And pay the favor in return, For without their support and giving, I may never have been given turn. I want to eat tomatoes in my great grandfathers garden, And live a simple life that's rich, And at the end I may not own an empire, But I will have loved every part of it.