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.
