WHERE IS HOME? (a Haibun)

The other day, my nephew posted pictures of decorative structures that he and his friends have set up in my old hometown. While the change was aesthetically pleasing, something clicked inside me: Bayanan, my hometown, is gone. Bayanan has changed a lot in the years I have been away. The sleepy barrio is gone, replaced

COMING HOME (WPC: Happy Place)

I was a nomad wandering from dream to dream living life with neither anchor nor chains until I found your arms then I  wondered no more why birds, born free, would fold their wings for a humble nest in an obscure tree. There, in your embrace, I knew I’ve been searching for my place to love

TODAY

Today is my home It’s where my heart goes back to when tomorrow comes. ~~~ Thanks, Sherri for the inspiration for this little piece. 🙂

GENEROUS GARDEN

Ah! Bountiful garden you left me no room for idle wondering. When we came home from our two-week vacation last Wednesday, we were greeted with ripening tomatoes and peppers. The weather had been good during our absence. Rain came once a week. Immediately, I harvested the ripe fruits. That same afternoon, overcome by excitement, I

SORRY

The house was just as you left it. I dared not make any change. I wanted you to be right at home when you return. After the children were put to bed, I would stand by the window staring at the rose -lined path that you usually took to get to our front door for

HOME

“Stop!” the screaming banshee of a mommy yells from the other room at her little monkeys running wild making a mess of their home. “Watch out! There are legos and lincoln logs nasty little traps scattered on the floor There are ninjas and soldiers trucks and trains and guns and more.” “Are you crazy?!” yelled

POETICS: SENT WITH A STAMP

This weekend, DVERSE wants us to write an epistolary poem, e.g., a letter poem. I tried to make a magnum opus (HA! 🙂 but the plates and pans spoke to me. Why not write about these things that bother me so, eh? 🙂 To the Pots and Pans Why don’t you just disappear when your

THE DOOR

The aroma of bread warm from the oven wafts through this door embracing me with a hunger that no bread could fill. Footsteps echo laughter rings from inside this door voices call my name sweetly, as only children can. Four pairs of arms wait to enfold me in hugs and tickles until we collapse on

CLEMATIS

These days, it is hard for me to remain inside the house.  The first thing I do in the morning, when I get the chance to, is to walk around in the yard to see what progress the plants have made overnight 🙂 and to see if there are any new blooms. It is an

PEACE AND QUIET

There’s a spring in my step my second wind has come the children are all asleep I can dance I can sing I can breathe with no tugging at my skirt nor yelling in my ear “Mommy!” plus a myriad of requests. What mother am I to crave some time alone that peace and quiet