Home

home

through the darkness, he peers
slowly fading, suddenly becoming
a fortress of growth and life,
yet, of death and decay, he fears

ages have crossed, and he stands...
seeing himself grow weary,
of those who call him home;

bouts of angry conversations,
shouts of glee,
little feet running through,
mundane rambling of TVs,
and often a lonely cry stifled within the bedroom walls
he has heard it all,
he has listened to them all,

an uneven patch of plaster- peeling off his forehead, for it rained last night- now falls to the ground,
crumbling at his feet,
looking down he sees himself,
growing old,
with those who call him home.

somewhere a banyan plant is springing to life,
a resilient little shoot climbing through the cracks of his wrinkled face,
a new home is being built within him-
one that might shake his foundation,
roots that will dig deep in his skin...

yet he will watch from afar,
allowing it to grow, hoping it does not wilt
for his living is for those
who, in him, find a home.

This poem was published in the book Anthology of Poems: Jingle Bells published in print and digital by Writer's Pocket in 2023.