August 25, 2012

The Old Iris

From Home ... 
The dust of those who have gone before us
The empty houses of our beloved ones
The only cloud on the blue sky
I call from home.

Trees of our home, and the old builders 
that only build the land for 20 years
Expected the youth would be with them!

Wisdom of our grandfather
Planting on our earth

I'm the rock that shamelessly 
forgot where his roots are. 

Back Home
Where my neighbours still visits me
Pure like Lily, or more like the white cloud 
The days will come and the sun is right behind me.

Home, I call
I'm right behind that door
And the old Iris is with me.

ShadiatiQue © 2012
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  1. I'm the rock that shamelessly
    forgot where is his roots...nice...i like those lines...really descriptive....i like as well the unveil that the iris is you as well in the end...and bringing it back home...

  2. Guatami and Brian ...
    Thanks for your positive comments.


  3. This is absolutely beautiful, Shadiatique. Thanks for sharing your talent!