like some seafarer
of old
casting off
to return
once again
for the first time
to this place
called home
home
Iftar:Thursday, June 16, Maltepe
the area lit
food on tables
music speeches
partake partake
break fast
as a community
shake the dust
from the boots
the eyes
the heart
home again
the horon fills the air
the music
and voices
of the horon
fill the air
between the fair
near the water
and here
where I sit
drinking lemon water
feeling at home
home
where you go
because
you belong
thoughts of home
the sun
comes goes
as do thoughts
of home
in your heart
hoping to find
home
in your heart
within
we seek home
outside ourselves
when all the while
it is within
at the edge of the sea
here
at the edge
of the sea
my mind settles
in that place
called serenity
a final home
of sorts
for one
too long
adrift
Friday night, Istanbul
there’s an Irish band
possibly The Waterboys
on the sound system
at a bar
named after
a city in Ireland
though no smiling
Irish eyes
at the tables
around me
this being Turkey
no Irish whiskey
in bottles
here
though I am
pacified
which is more
than I should
expect
but pleased
to accept
so very far
yet quite near
home
a Quiche poem about home: The Face of My Mountains
My voice speaks out
to your lips,
to your face:
give me thirteen times twenty days,
thirteen times twenty nights,
to bid farewell
to the face of my mountains,
the face of my valleys,
where once I roamed
to the four world-ends,
the four world-quarters,
seeking and finding
to feed me
and live.
translated into Spanish by Prologo de Francisco Monterde, then into English by John Bierhorst