Final Thoughts Poem by Cheryl L. DaytecYañgot

He stands on the departure area, ready to go
But his thought meanders to his hometown
Where the smell of pine trees is eloquent
in its expression of purity and innocence
Where the rooster’s crow is thrilled in
its broadcast of another picturesque day
He longs to saunter the narrow pathway strewn
with pine needles pricking his bare feet
He dreams of the rice paddies covered with
fresh mud and rice stalks after a harvest.

He loves the feel of the soft earth in his hands
as he digs through it in his search for mudfish
He can see the sweet potato fields he frolicked
on, waiting for his mother harvesting greens
His hometown - how it plaintively beckons him
Alas, he is too battered and beaten to move
Morphine, not blood, runs through his veins
And there is not a scintilla of time to go back
He is in a city hospital bed- the waiting area
for the train to take him to the celestial shores

13 December 2006