Home
In the days past,
I landed exactly where my heart has always wanted to be.
But to get there,
I had to stop wanting.
Because wanting clothes
what belonging would undress.
Friday felt like a dream.
And by Saturday,
I knew it was.
New faces,
but old friends.
Some recognized me.
Others didn’t.
Not yet.
I chose to come back.
And so now,
life makes things easy.
But it wasn’t easy when I left.
So even now,
I continue to learn.
A room surrounded by my image,
playing in reverse.
Fragments of voice,
of service,
of song.
Made in the moment,
but still,
I already knew the lyrics.
What is my offering?
I thought to myself.
I’m exiled from voice
now that I know
there’s nothing more to be said.
I’m foreign to the land of healing
now that I know
nothing broke.
But music…
Where does it come from?
It’s not me laying tracks.
Still,
the bass climbs the root of my seat.
Watching signal blend with rhythm.
Eternal eyes and hearts beyond battle,
hands in hands,
as if they were always that way.
I watched purity drip like a mother’s milk,
then change lanes
in the traffic of tired veins,
still flooded with thoughts of last night.
The room was steady.
So the voice came back:
Where am I off to now?
Or, is this what home feels like?
It saddened me that it’s not.
It saddened me that I know the real home.
I know the place.
The one I no longer avoid.
And here,
there is no sound,
no color,
no heartbeat.
Because home
is where music listens.
But to be born of that place,
in a room filled with light,
sadness met sunshine,
and everywhere became home.
So what is it I offer?
Structure?
Space?
My acoustics tune louder
so an answer will reverberate.
Perhaps belonging is the one altar
that doesn’t ask for an offering.
Being
needs no permission.
Here,
I lay rest to the ceaseless voice,
the one that murders mystery,
and vow on behalf of the nest:
When you speak to my walls,
I will echo your words.
When you tend to my yard,
I will bear fruit.
When you fill me up,
I will hold you close.
And when you leave,
you will always have
somewhere to return.
Thank you
for loving me,
not for who I am,
but for my ability
to reflect
the beauty
inside.
