The House Of Stone Poem by Jane Quijano

I came, from where?
From the house made of stone...

My aunt Romana -
That whom you do not know,

When she had an accident
She stayed in the house of stone

To get well and recover...
But with a cutting tongue

Against my father,
She said to me,

'T'is a big house made of stone,
But inside here lives an owl! '

Where did I come from?
From that house of stone...

But I cannot fathom,
Was her anger so deep

For the owl on pedestal,
The King of our clan;

Was corrupted and fallen
Weakened by the flesh of men...

My Aunt Romana, she left
And my father is dead;

The house made of stone
Forever ruined...

But the lesson of the owl lives;
And him fondly remembered!