Here, take a seat
with your grandmother and listen
to her breathing:
Does the rhythm sometimes falter?
And with it your heart too, stutters.
ahead. Days, weeks, months, years
when you sit on this same bench alone.
Suddenly your heart roars in protest,
and you have to stop the hands
from grabbing her; clutching her
to your side to make her stay!
But I tell you, listen.
Her breaths whisper, Be calm,
I am here yet with you.
now. Imagine yourself
Odysseus on the shores of
The journey must occur.
And home, home will always wait.
2 comments:
Drey! How was the workshop? Who lead it? How was Dumaguete? I've never been but everyone I know who's been there loves it. I love your poems, especially the previous two. I didn't renew my domain.
Melai! I panicked when I saw that your domain was for sale! Are you planning to setup a new one? Dumaguete is lovely, lovely. I want to live there someday! hahaha. "Mom" Edith Tiempo led it. When are you coming home, let'g go there together! Miss you
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