Though you feel splintered between places.
There is a home in you, where goodness lives.
Goodness not because of the absence of bitterness.
This home, in you, is the place where it all comes to rest.
Where your fears slumber spooning your hopes,
and your hopes surrender to the serenade of twilight.
Stepping into the tender place, the flexible place
in the middle of a battle,
when stepping into rigid armor and taking up arms
seems the only reasonable option.
Stepping directly into the daylight,
NAKED,
when spirit-crushing words are drawn in a circle around you
by invisible enemies.
When searching for keys in a dark room;
turn on the light.
When searching for understanding of a person or situation;
turn on the light.
You can continue to search in the dark,
but imagine all the bumps and bruises you can avoid
just by turning on the light.
Little strands billowing in the breeze.
Innocuous.
These are my strands.
Pieces of myself that have come loose.
Pieces of myself that have yet to be tied.
Sunlight catches them in golden hues.
Enchanted are these pieces of me.
Dancing in rhythmic waves so joyfully.
home.
where my feet slip out of shoes and into warm, fuzzy socks.
i find myself circling, like a dog pressing down the head-high grass.
it is here, each night, that i can't help but consider you.