Mark Escobar Poet Narrative

Of Homecoming

As the old saying goes, “be it ever so humble,
there’s no place like home.”
no matter what the place has promises to make,
to a certain period of time the inner core echoes,
‘I’ve to go soon; I miss my routine along with people.

Priorities at hand and much more the essentials,
given the freedom where I ought to keep that in mind;
it’s a kind of experience, an opportunity that goes hand in hand,
because being at home there’s a vision, a lovely action.

It’s amazing how things can make a great deal of difference,
with depth and length of life, God’s presence forms a meaning
in relationship which is replete with bounds and proportions
that capture the essence of being someone who returns home.

Its metaphorical connection finds an answer to my faith in Him
It’s like an encounter with familiar rhythm of my Asian background,
amid all the apparent successes and failures, or blessings and woes;
with the passage of time along with the flurry of interests done,
certain elements of change become a reason to come by.

There’s excitement and willingness to reconnect with loved ones,
friends, relatives, and all those who’ve been part of the process –
this kind of experience that shapes the wellspring of my perspective
opens the windows to showcase the wealth of mem’ries in depth.

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