This post first appeared on my blog.I return to known soil, To that of my birth, And breathe the air of first breath — Drink the waters that raised me. It is after a time, Spent days in strange dust, Where nothing seemed right — My compass inverted. The sunlight is different here — Nightlight-in-my-bedroom familiar, Like that of a loving embrace — My eyes smile. Trees I climbed in youth, Bend and beckon, Wave me up to higher limbs — I politely decline. These older hips and knees Are cracked crumbling, Like chipped paint on these faded homes, And the sidewalks I’ve walked. Some broken paned memories appear, As shattered glass in the grass — But my nose finds the lilac scent, Spring-of-my-youth blooms my soul. Amidst the change and the same, I’m here under different terms — A fresh coat of paint, fixed windows — Amend the cracks with strength and love. I dig the dirt with cupped hands, Making space to grow roots — Mend the soil for the future, To grow a stronger tree.
A Return to Known Soil
This post first appeared on my blog.I return to known soil, To that of my birth, And breathe the air of first breath — Drink the waters that raised me. It is after a time, Spent days in strange dust, Where nothing seemed right — My compass inverted. The sunlight is different here — Nightlight-in-my-bedroom familiar, Like that of a loving embrace — My eyes smile. Trees I climbed in youth, Bend and beckon, Wave me up to higher limbs — I politely decline. These older hips and knees Are cracked crumbling, Like chipped paint on these faded homes, And the sidewalks I’ve walked. Some broken paned memories appear, As shattered glass in the grass — But my nose finds the lilac scent, Spring-of-my-youth blooms my soul. Amidst the change and the same, I’m here under different terms — A fresh coat of paint, fixed windows — Amend the cracks with strength and love. I dig the dirt with cupped hands, Making space to grow roots — Mend the soil for the future, To grow a stronger tree.