Day's Work Is Done...

Sun is setting,
Feet are fueled up...with enthusiasm
Thoughts are filled with pictured expectations,
To be met at the door with warm hugs and kisses
A hot meal on the table...steaming coffee awaits
All these, comfort my fatigued limbs and minds.
A smile, in anticipation ...a sense of *****
Atmosphere tickle my mind...i hurry
To enter my safe ground...my comfort zone
My own White Picket Fences.
|| || || || |\ || \| // || ||
They may have  tiny fractures
Some boards missing, broken, or collapsed,
Its concrete floors and walls may be creviced
I can not shun........or hide from
Imperfect truths, about my family,
Our relationships, our health.....every truth
About my loved ones and me...

It is where i come home to...
After each struggle's end
My feet and mind take me back...to my own,
My known familial boundaries...

An inner force spurs me to make those broken boards
Upright...firm once again......like hardwood trees,
Be unshaken by water and wind....be unwavering
Then, i repaint them
...to bring back the glow.

Some broken fences could still be fixed
some are worthy of fixing; but,
There are those that seem to be, beyond repair
needing some kind of intervention.
/|  || || //  |/  \ ||

Sally


Copyright July 9, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥

I lay in my bedroom,
Near lifeless I was,
Hardly any movement,
Neither voluntarily,
Nor involuntarily,
To parents' utter disappointment,
And to their sadness.

I had never thought,
Not even dreamed,
Heavy felt every step,
Never so desperately,
Narrower felt each passage,
To my parents' daily observation,
And to their dismay.

But still they were strong,
Harder than diamond,
Impossible to shake their spirits,
Time admitted defeat in the end,
Thanks to their nerving nerves,
I could only muster strength,
And I walked upright again.

For he's going through,
A time so tough & rude,
Loving mother has undergone,
Surgery for knee replacement,
Ya it was a difficult one,
As she's so senior in age,
May time be merciful & help her.

May time help a son to look after,
Loanee we all are of our parents,
Only few get such chances,
Gitacharyaji, we are lucky,
For both of us have gotten ample,
Opportunities to look after them,
We must serve our parents.

Still we can never repay the debt,
They gave us life, they taught us,
Of course we are their symbols,
We are lucky to do something,
For the progenitors of ours,
May your faith guide you,
And impart strength to you.