When this poem found its way on my inbox, I skimmed through the first few lines and found myself drawn. It's a rare occurrence for me as most of those I have read have been very hard to digest, too filled with American slang and idioms that I could not understand.
Yet this poem - This Your Home Now - seems to pull my heartstrings and remind me of my wonderful childhood in Iligan City. And I felt like reading this, it reminds me of the things that I left behind and the memories that come summoned on a Holy Thursday.
Like for instance, I sent this photo to my mom on Facebook. I told her this reminded me of our childhood in Suarez where at the veranda we had loads of these plans hanging in the place. I'm sure my siblings would agree how much these plants were a symbol of discovery and summer and how the bees go back to and fro the flowers of these plants and that would send us running to avoid getting stung (which never really happened). Fun times.
And the feelings -- I felt that Mark Doty said the exact things I wanted to feel again about my memories and that's this part --
and today I sit in your good chair, in the sixth decadeof my life, and if your back door is a thresholdof the kingdom of the lost, yours is a steady hand
How wonderful it would be to feel this way again. Thank you Mark Doty.