Cold, pitch-black, and raining,
Strong wind bashing the flowering bush outside my window,
Screeching sound of cars passing by,
Attempting to empty my mind of today’s events is futile

As I lay underneath layers of wool blankets,
This feeling hit me in the gut and gnawed,
Curled myself into a ball, my knees touching my chin,
“Yes……I’m really missing home a lot.”

I miss listening to nothing but the roaring and gushing sounds
Of Sakop and Pikaw waterfalls from my bedroom at night after a heavy rainfall
And waking up to the smell of earth and life,
The mountains, waterfalls, rivers and fields beckon me..


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s