It was December morn,
aboard the ferry to where I was born
It’s been ten years and I dreaded my return,
to my sweet, ancestral home.
Saltiness in the air,
I felt in my hair.
I used to long for this kind of journey,
childhood memories played back suddenly.
As the ferry docked at the pier,
people gathered everywhere...
long awaited services,
pesos for transports and carried baggages.
Small children, bare-naked,
swam around and waited.
For tossed coins they craved...
down at the cold bottom they braved...
The noise deaden my senses.
as the man counted the census...
off the boat I went.
Into the vehicle... thus, bereft.
When I gazed behind me, dust proliferated the road.
Long, stretched-out, soon to corrode.
Parked cars overflowed the street...
Where we played hide and seek.
Familiar faces I’ve seen...
Greeted each other, “ How’ve you been?”
In the house, fragrant flowers abound,
Mother seemed much older behind her shroud.
Vigil prayers uttered,
The copper casket surrounded.
The vigil lasted two days later,
Paid my respect to my dear father.
In the room where great words were uttered,
about my beloved father, I once have wondered.
Now, I realized a man yet imperfect,
laid down to rest, to meet his Maker.
Allow me now to interject:
He remained just and kind as I remember.
Served his fellowmen with heart and soul... uncorrupted.
And these had proven himself a great man... interrupted.