This so called labor of love.
How like the pear tree
In my backyard
With its imperfect fruit.
How can I bear like you?
So natural and unstruggled.
So at ease with your gift.
April 24, 2010
This Work of Mine
March 29, 2010
The Song
It is not logical to hear such a melody
this late spring
when the rains are still cold.
I had to stop when it first came,
its beckoning unrecognizable
or too familiar.
How can the frozen earth not
crack
to such song?
How can the numb cardinal not
sing
to the first sun?
It was almost too late
the sound of the first rain drop.
I stopped only because it hurt.
That dark echo.
That flash of sound.
-Francisco X. Stork
March 29, 2010
March 17, 2010
Holland
This past week, I was invited to visit Holland by Lemniscaat, the Dutch publisher of Marcelo in the Real World. It was a particularly meaningful trip because my step father, Charlie Stork, was Dutch. There were many things about the trip that were touching and had an impact on me, but the one that sticks out the most in my mind was looking into the eyes of many Dutch people and seeing in there the same kind, bright, spark of life that I used to see in my father’s eyes. I met Charlie Stork when I was six years old and I lost him to an automobile accident when I was thirteen. It was too short a time but it was enough for me to be grateful, to recognize the influence that a father has on a son. Going to Holland at age 57 meant so much to me. I will never forget the in-depth interviews by reporters who had read Marcelo two or three times, the attentive faces of the children at the schools, the kind people at the bookstores who listened to my sales pitch. Thank you Lemniscaat for bringing me to the home of my father and letting me find my adoptive roots.
