Birthplace (Poem)

Birthplace

Greek islands:

your myth my legend

father's hands

cast open,

mine to trace sea-deep, rock-carved

gods my sun-kissed guides.

© 2011 Maureen E. Doallas

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We know little about my late father, a first-generation American, orphaned at age four, his father a Greek. I do imagine myself in Greece one day, map of roots in hand, following the arc begun in my father's father's birthplace to a new home in a small town in Massachusetts. Greece is more than just a place to which to travel; it holds a piece of home. 

Getting there? It's not so difficult. I see it in an image of my father I look at every day.

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I'm participating in the #Trust30 challenge, an online writing/reflection initiative for which a prompt is posted daily. All of the prompts to date are found here.

This poem, in Shadorma form, is my response to the fifth prompt from writer Chris Guillebeau:

If we live truly, we shall see truly. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Not everyone wants to travel the world, but most people can identify at least one place in the world they'd like to visit before they die. Where is that place for you, and what will you do to make sure you get there?

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My responses to prompts to date, all in the form of poems, are:

Answer in Time

Giving Meaning to Others

Zigzag

Fifteen Minutes to Count Down