The Road to My Childhood

Walking down the lane of yesterday,
On the path to my halcyon days,
When the night hides nothing,
And the strange doesn’t come close.

I see my father,
He looks at me and smiles,
This speaks more than words ever could.
I hear my father snoring,
I wake my older brother up,
And we sneak into his room,
The cold floor makes us giggle.
My father wakes up,
He beckons us over,
And we huddle under the warmth of his blanket.

I see my mother,
Troubled by my father’s missteps but still wearing a smile,
Perplexed by unknown troubles,
Gloomed by their handiworks.
I hear cries in the stillness of the night,
Her words drowned in a sea of tears.
I see my mother in the distance,
A shadow of her former self.
I run to meet her,
She smiles and waves at me,
Then vanishes into thin air.

I see my home,
Riddled with chaos,
Recriminations shoot like arrows,
Conflict looms and darkens the atmosphere.
Turbulence rocks the boat,
My father struggles to bring order,
Sometimes to no avail.

I hear crying and wailing,
I hear a song that mourns those who sleep,
A song that speaks of the bane of mortality,
A song that reflects on the vanity of material existence.
I draw closer to see the one who sleeps,
He appears unruffled and unperturbed,
Eased from life's consequences and complexities,
Tears stream down my face.

I walk along a lonely path,
A door opens,
I step through,
Today welcomes me,
And the present is now at its duty.