Home

They wonder if I miss it,

those places where my soul resided not so long ago,

where the blanket of white sits in still bracing air

and the ice dances like stars below the rising sun.

They ask if I want to return,

back to a place where memories were made,

to where faces are familiar and the ice of winter

fills my blood and slows my body

leaving me broken and pained

the scars of yesterday ripped daily

as the darkness of night comes too soon.

They ask if I’m happy

living here now in this place

where the warm winds sway

and it feels so far away from there,

here the bitter wind is a distant memory

etched in my psyche like a stone of names

in a lonely forgotten place where ghosts reside

and visitors are few.

I gaze into the light of the sun so high,

feeling the warmth blanket me like a child,

and though it is the season of time together

in my mind they’re never really that far

as I can speak to them in dreams

or smile at a moment that reminds me,

that home is where the peace is,

and I am here in that place

at this very moment,

a halo of goodness greets my heart

for the love I carry sees me through

with sweet thoughts of you.