The Home Poem

By Ralph Chesterfield O. Francisco

To the
skeleton thin,
to the pig fat,
the funeral black,
the chocolate brown,
the too pale to be white,
too short,
too tall,
too dumb,
too numb,
it's fine.

You are enough.

You are not a puff
of cigarette smoke.
You are not a joke.
You are an art
only those with the heart
like yours can appreciate.
It is never too late
to begin again
every morning,
to breath
the air of a fresh morning sun
you’ve long forgotten exists.

Listen
to the quiet,
to the whispers,
to the humming birds,
to peace
you’ve long forgotten exists.
Turn off
the noise of war
inside you. Listen.

See
how you shine brighter
than the stars you adore.
The mirror
needs to see you,
for it’s been longing
for some beauty to reflect.
 It’s missing you.

Remember,
their words
may have scarred you
but even the moon
hold so much wonders
even with marks of imperfection,
so do you.

Remember,
you are a universe
yourself – holding wonders
of your own.
Your body is home.
It may not feel so
but it is.
Just let yourself in –
come home.
Come back
to the home
you’ve long forgotten exists.