Going back home…
“For me this journey was like going in the depths of my heart’s womb, like looking in the mirror of life, looking at oneself through so many eyes that have known me but inside them they are changing, like I am changing in me and none, no one can even say or do anything about it.”
~ Narayan Kaudinya – East Indian Endologist – The Road to Nara
My visit back home a few years ago was a clash
between past nostalgia and present reality.
The house where I was born so full of memories
Now overgrown with bushes and run down;
Reality bites as I take in the view…
Perhaps that is why we tend to remember the good
and let the bad things that happened to us
sift through the hands of time and fade into oblivian.
The church where I listened to my father preach
still looks much the same, as does the cementery
extending up the hill behind, which now holds
many of my friends and neighbors from childhood.
There are a few people still around, just as old as me,
who remember the good times and talk of days gone by.
People such as Mary Ann who turned ninety this week
and was lovingly celebrated at a church dinner
that my two brothers drove many hours to attend.
It was a grand time of appreciation and love
the kind that should be given while one is still alive
instead of kind sentiments when we have passed
and never get to hear what is spoken.
Sometimes I wonder why we go back
knowing it’s not the same, yet feeling the yearning
to once again relive a good moment or feel the love
of friendships long past.
Places and spaces do hold meaning long after they
have changed or disappeared, and we desperately
cling to their memory so we can feel that at least,
that part of us hasn’t yet died or faded away.
Photos: Dwight L. Roth and Phil Roth
Today at d’Verse, Ingrid asked to think about Places and Spaces that were special in our life and write a poem about them. I did a train of consciousness poem reflecting on my childhood home where I was born.
Join us at: https://dversepoets.com