Homesick

I have lived with a passion
for history longer than anything
else in my life as if I am
homesick for another place and
time not of this life,
as if my heart remembers.

I have search unfulfilled
working harder and deeper
then moving on to the next
big idea, project, cause.
Busy? Yes. Fulfilling? No.
Even after fifty years.

I have traveled back with
philosophers and queens, 
trailblazers and breakthroughs,
explorers, pioneers and builders,
revolutionaries and activists,
with mighty ruling kings, and
common men who changed the world.

In the end I wonder what this
life will have brought and
if I will also be homesick
for this place and time...
what my heart will remember?

Home

Where is home? she asked.
And we struggled to define it.
We'd traveled too far.
We were spread too thin.

But do you remember? she said.
We all nodded and laughed.
As we ate food that wasn't special
But it was, because it's what
We ate when we came together.
We talked about the time when...
And told our children
So they too would know,
While our parents leaned back
Smiling at memories as
A new generation learned
Family stories that made us
Who we are, made us laugh,
And got repeated every year.

We found shelter in those stories
Unmatched by any roof or walls,
A shelter called home.


 

Halfway Heart

I nest on anger and guilt
Hiding it, shielding it
My song feels empty
Knowing what is beneath me

Anger and guilt leave no room
For grace and forgiveness
In a halfway heart

Like leaves that stir on branches
In hot summer breezes
I want to reach out
But I stay rooted, unmoving
Only flutters, small gestures

Because underneath still
I am unraveled, undone

I cannot pick up my pieces
Because I do not know
What is left, who I am

My halfway heart
Tries to beat whole
With grace and forgiveness
But I am unraveled, undone

Refuge

He found a sliver of my soul

And held it in his hands

When it grew large enough for me to see

He gently gave it back to me

Moonlight

The moon fell into my heart
Its silver spilling through me
Reflecting, protecting
Its phases ornament my soul

Dark craters on its barren face
Pulled me like the tide
Revering, appearing
I wax and wane in rhythm

When its brightest glow
Warms the air I breathe
Completion, repletion
I'm satisfied and whole

Woodwinds

trees sing
in the wind

a symphony
only the forest

and those
who walk

in the woods
have heard

my heart knows
the tune

and sings
along