It was an extremely hot and humid day outside today. The utter monotony of life as an English teacher is beginning to catch up to me. I have decided that I will pursue a righteous attitude that stands above reproach, no matter what. The classroom was more responsive than normal, however, headaches have still occurred. At the end of the day I feel exhausted and drained of all my energy. Though my mental faculties are nonexistent by the end of the day, I still remain optimistic. South Korea is culturally heavy, but with a little but of laughter, homesickness can by assuaged for at least a little while longer.
Here is a poem I just wrote about my Father
Childhood
I would lay awake
as a child, drifting
in and out of dreams-
Those silk threads spinning
in a tapestry of colors
and dreams newly birthed-
My infant heart kept time
with the steady pulse of
my Father's snoring-
Resounding through the wooden
beams of our home, and
within my child-like bones
was a pledge of sanctuary,
where dreams were havens
and sound a solace.
I now sleep with a fan, and
whether it's the subtle purr
of a whirring turbine
that shuts my heavy eyes
night by night, I will
never know-
But every night I hear
his grumbling odes of
protection, the impregnable
strength of his arms, and
the reassuring light
in his brown eyes-
While the blade slices the
heavy air, I hear melodies
spinning eager threads
about my mind, and I ease
into sleep, surrendering to
sound one more time.
No comments:
Post a Comment