Three Heartbeats
Reflections on Being a TCK (Third Culture Kid)

My heart is a triad
Of cultural drums
Beating different names for home

Otthon is my birthmark
Traced by jam-stained hands
Where walls were warmed by crayon suns
If only they'd still stand
Renovated, painted over
By families of new
No childhood room to anchor me
Just boxes passing through
I long for climbing cherry trees
For roots I couldn't grow
Although I have been uprooted
I am not alone, I know

Hogar is my birthstone
A blaze of summer heat and salt
Sea creatures and palm trees
Tennis balls and art
Citrus fruits that trill their R’s
Monkey bars too hot to hold
Sun-kissed limbs in playground sun
My skin a burnished bronze and gold
Chameleon, chameleon
Ride the waves, collect shells
Adapt, but stay in touch with all
The new holas and new farewells

So Home is my birthright
One I didn't choose
Childhood friends raise families
In languages I lose
I fly across the ocean
For lukewarm morning brew
Our voices cross through satellites
But never quite break through
Skype, Insta, Whatsapp, Facebook
The hourglass will hum
The past, tucked in a distant nook
A time when we were one

Still with all the sorrow
No part would I rescind
With every fracture borrowed
Kaleidescopic light shines in
My heart beats in three:
Otthon, hogar, and home
My ribcage stretched to keep within
The homes I wear beneath my skin

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