Finding Home

Freedom Fortune Love Life Daughter Sister Friend Counselor Teacher Wife Mother  Traveler Seeker Lost  Found Lost again Found over and over Joy Pain Everything in between Beautiful always Laughter Not laughter Anger Peace Silence Song Thoughts to ponder on A hand to hold  even from miles away Gratitude Courage Grace Helene.

Uwan Hoyohoy sa hangin Kasikas sa dahon Huni sa mga langgam Akong dughan Imong kasingkasing Kitang duha Atong mga tudlo nga Naglambud Atong mga ngabil Nanamilit Sige, uwan pag kusog Ayaw ug hunong. Rain Windspeak The crunch of leaves Birdsong My heart Yours Us Fingers intertwined Lips Saying goodbye Go on, rain Do not stop.

Rain falls My hair feels soft Its layered tips brush my neck It doesn't sting as in the previous days Where the heat turns it into needles Rain falls My boy sings I read About mountains and roads and love Uncommon but love just the same. Rain falls The book pages are flecked with age Storage for words simple, unfrilled blunt as with  my Chinese heritage Rain falls My boy continues to sing My hair feels soft I continue to read The rain has ceased But the cold it leaves is comforting turning needles into cloths of silk Rain fell I pick up the pen And I write these.

December Two Thousand Fourteen We installed wooden boards on all our windows. Shutters, they're called, If they were beautiful, intentional. Another typhoon, they told us. Our house darkened. Quieted. We waited. She came. Ruby, they called her. A howling that seemed no end. She was no Yolanda. But bore the same last name. Or first name. It did not matter. At least the boards muffled the loudness somewhat. August Two Thousand Sixteen The wooden boards have long been dismantled. Save for those outside our bedroom windows. It's still not beautiful. From the outside it's not. It still darkens the room, muffling the sounds. But when I draw the curtains aside, Slats of light seep through And sounds of day and dusk still enter-- Birdsong, Only what is necessary Only what must, Such as, When I reached down to kiss you, Our little boy seeing this, then said, "I yuv yoo." The wooden boards-- Shutters, I call them now.

Sailboats, again? You asked me Smirking, Eyes all knowing, rolling. Of course. Don't ask why but I will tell you Remember when I drifted to you? I did not know why either, I just did. You at the time, smiled Or was it a smirk? Needless to say I steered my oars In your direction, The pier was free I disembarked and saw your door was open You bade me with no words, "Come in." I knocked, you opened. I spoke, you responded And we laughed A million laughs Did we weep? Don't even ask. Even as we speak or not Days, weeks or months, I still drift to you with words, I miss you, My friend. Sometimes we laugh. Most times we ponder. Other times we weep. Several times we reveal and recant. And then We set sail again. So of course, sailboats. We go where the wind takes us. When the time comes to dock, we do. Drop down our anchors, Walk to the pier, knock on doors,  and just like that, our arms wide, We say, "How are yo

Morgan Round cheeks Small eyes that grow large once in a while Hands gentle hold mine Garret Face angled to the sun, moon and stars singing Fingers long flick, touch my face softly like wind Morgan wordless yet intent spills this morning, he sits beside me says, "Mmm- mah," and then none Small eyes grow large Hands gentle touch my arm hold my Heart Garret in the dark head rests in the crook of my arm scant words says, "Aaa-peee," I bring him close my Heart sings.

"Salin" Cebuano for residue, Remains, remnants, Leftover, scrap, remainder I wrote you many poems Do you remember? And then autumn came Leaves fell But we only have summer and rain And yet, well, Now I still look for you in the spaces between those letters in the pauses between breaths in the places where my mind says, "No more, No more, No more." We were no more than residue.