The Old House Remain Standing [ Strings Of Tanka ] Poem by Nudershada Cabanes

The old house remain
Standing, though a little bent
From neglect and age
It holds lot of memories
Of us as growing children

The house we call home
Has been there, standing for years
Where we used to run
In its four corners, playing
Hide and seek, chasing, laughing

In its walls, voices
Echoed, reverberated
As little children
Played through their growing up years
Distilled on my mind by time

The scenes are now drowned
By the passing of the years
We are now adults
Living our separate lives
Away from that old, old home

Yet there's this longing
To visit that old, bent house
Where our early years
Were spent, where our childhood days
Were sheltered by its strong roof

Just like its dwellers
The old house has experienced
The few vagaries of life
That showed in its features
Deformed, bent, rustic, aged

But it keeps standing
Despite the absence of care
Its strong foundation
Holding it up through the years
Waiting, calling us all back

To our beginning
To our roots that connected
Our lives like a tree
To look back to a place where
Stories of our lives begun