I live my life through the words I write
Back home
to reality
of the daily routine
mundane in comparison
to protected time in a bubble, for sport.
Back to the dishes piled high in the sink,
dust settled on the furniture,
the pen and paper on the kitchen counter
picked up every now and then
to note another to-do
not to be forgotten.
Back to the commitment
of, every day,
working to better myself,
carving away more marble from the sculpture
of the life I want to live,
bringing it into the light.
I came home to my body today.
There she was, waiting for me
with an embrace to wrap me twice around.
I listened to what she needed,
I shared with her my desires,
we worked together.
Partners.
I had forgotten what her love felt like,
how much she has to give.
I remember now,
now that I’m back home.
Digging out the key from the depths of my pocket
and opening wide the little metal door
I receive a sign, a symbol,
that something greater waits for me,
something so great it could not live within
this little metal box.
Hand-delivered to me is a cardboard box.
I recognize it instantly.
My heart leaps beyond my rib cage,
my mouth explodes into a smile
and my skin turns hot and clammy
as I take the box in my hands.
A corner is missing, exposing a corner of pages
within: pages I know, and love, and made.
You’re here.
I tear open the box,
gently extracting the stack of papers,
including four new ones written by someone else.
I feel everything.
I feel tears spring from my eyes
at the compliments,
I feel my head nod and mind expand
at the critiques,
I feel a deep exhale escape my mouth
at the suggested path forward,
I feel my heart race and palms sweat
at the positive encouragement.
I feel safe, and calm, and reunited.
I squeeze the stack of papers
close to my chest, just like she did.
This is coming home to myself.
Stay at home with your family.
Light a candle, bundle a blanket.
Travel only if you must.
Slow down, relax, take a breath.
Turn down the volume to find quiet.
Remember,
the world may be hard
but it’s also soft, and gentle.
Finally here and ready to see you
better late than never,
the air fills with chatter and laughter.
This is what I have been missing.
Skies and snow
must also feel this warmth and love,
sticking, layering, to the world outside
like I wish to do here,
in your home.
Stick and stay.
Fighting against the disappearing sun
to stay longer, keep the moment alive,
come departures
too soon.
Dawning Words 