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Unlike refugees, who don’t have a home behind or infront of them, we have a home. But,

Will it remember all those mornings that the woodpecker made mating calls from its roof?
How on sleepless nights, someone read and made notes from a borrowed J. Krishnamurti’s Notebook?
All those times, we listened to “Ae zindagi gale laga le”? (Hey life, come hug me.)

Will it remember, how many times the kids yelled, “dumb” and “butt” and “dumbbutt”?
How friends partied and parted at the threshold of the front door?
How in those late hours, the kids slept on their parents’ shoulders as they left?

Read the full poem here.

https://futurestrong.org/2017/06/28/when-home-is-still-here-and-we-arent/

and if you would like to read more of my poetry, please visit:

https://futurestrong.org/rachana

 

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About The Article Author:

Hi, I’m Rachana. Its been my dream for years to do something to consciously create a better future where every one of us is excited about our own potential. My challenge to everyone is that they aspire for their personal best and leave a legacy of their work through their contributions to mankind.

One more thing. In December of 2044, I hope to win the Nobel.

Will you join me on this journey of growth and transformation?
Namasté.

Poetry

 

Human life without some form of poetry is not human life but animal existence. ~ Randall Jarrell

To My Estranged One

To My Estranged One

-   Ok, I admit; I still have that shameful longingness.When you gathered everything else up and left me to myself, And, when the war of words ended, It was clear that the love between us had begun to show cracks.It would never happen to me, was the conviction I...

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Yours Singularly – A Love Poem By Rachana

Yours Singularly – A Love Poem By Rachana

Want to listen to me read it? -   Always close by my side, he mocks me.Calling the lack of endearment around me,self-inflicted.Late in the afternoon, at work,“This team of people around you just need you tobreak their bread”, he mulls. At the bar,he demands to...

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Still Standing, Still Standing..

Still Standing, Still Standing..

-   The below is a first person account of a village tree who lost the friendship of a small boy to the big charm of the city..    -   At day break, I wait for your shrill cries of laughter to pierce my ears..I ponder while I drink the primary cocktail,a...

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Dear Sons: Full Disclosure

Dear Sons: Full Disclosure

-   A life's worth of choices. Subjected to, day in, day out.Freedom of expression. Empathy exercises. Vulnerability followed by weakness. Protection from cold. Letting the homeless die from it. Health of the children. Love. A gentle kind word. People who didn't...

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Now – A Poem on Time

Now – A Poem on Time

-   Of all the things I have and can desire to have, my time on this earth, and the time my kids will have of mine is finite. I am mindful of that. What I am also painfully mindful is that I do not choose well how I spend it. As an adult, time and the freedom to...

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Tea Rings – A Poem by Rachana

Tea Rings – A Poem by Rachana

Listen To The Article:-   There is the love of mother that needs no senses to feel its expression.And, that’s where I begin my journey of this life with you. In that vintage picture, I think of how you became a woman coming of age.Wounds of the uprooting I...

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Temples in Our Hearts – A Poem by Rachana

Temples in Our Hearts – A Poem by Rachana

-   While others make smoldering burial grounds in memory,those who have never made promises to make us laughbuild their own temples in our hearts. Stories that don’t need our mother’s tongue at all,are these secret wishes that transcend cultures and...

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Retribution?!?!

Retribution?!?!

*   If I knocked on your door for a cup of waterfor my parched throat,Would you be able to tell,I am not your next door neighbor..? If not, then, why this thirst for my life.. ????   *   Near these foothills,of some of the world's coldest mountains..I...

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I Can Muse a Poem

I Can Muse a Poem

-   The mother inside of me finds no shortage of spontaneity and wit.I can be surprisingly superfluous when I am lecturing my child. Trouble arrives when I call myself a writer, and that’s when I get deliberate.When I dictate myself to the writer’s rigor,...

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Pathos.. A Poem On Caring For The Elderly

Pathos.. A Poem On Caring For The Elderly

-   The mornings hang here, until..I peek out of the window andhurry out of the house for the next door.. Determined to find an answer..I gently turn the key andpush myself into the hallway.. Moving past discolored leaves and curtains..I pass them, a lot of...

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Homs and The Uncharismatic Sociopath..

-   -   For anyone not in need of soul searching or a mirror.. Here is the gist of the mother's letter..   -   Assad.. It is tough for me to think of you as a product of a biochemical blissful event, a distinct moment in time.. Should I have sniffed the...

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