ALSphere Foundation
The cobwebs in the nook,
Reveal the age of days that have passed by
Crevices in the wooden doors,
Allow me a glimpse of the times gone by,
The dusty fan above still manages to stir up
A flurry of musty memories,
Lending me a wisp of cool comfort
In which I lie on the bed of yesterdays,
Ensconced in the future dreams of the past.
The discolored curtains come alive
With their freshness sealed in time,
The faded bedsheets hold the warm fragrance of my grandmother’s embrace,
My grandfather’s mirror on the wall,
In which I see his smiling reflections,
Soothing my wistful desire for his endearing presence,
And I revel, like a child, in the glory of my homecoming.
This is my home, the remnant of days that had been,
and that has now disappeared into the shadows of the past.
This is the place my heart inhabits
even when I wander about in the haze of the present.
This is where I often come back
For a rendezvous with myself,
This is my homecoming.
