Saturday, December 17, 2011

i cannot deny home

I just want to sink
my feet
down deep
and feel the dirt crumble between the cracks of small toes
and as my toes expand and extend, I lay down the roots
that I uprooted long ago.

I allow my arms to stretch and reach
up toward the sky like a bad cliche
but I still let myself breathe in cliches
of no place like home and home is where the heart is
as my fingers turn into branches that soak in light
that feeds
and nourishes
and remembers.

And I wonder why it was
that long ago I thought I wanted to leave
and why
I clung on to adolescent dreams
and why
we believe the grass is always greener
and why it is
that it takes leaving a place to know
that you belong where roots can grow.

Certainly there are many places for roots to grow
but I like the nourishment of familiar soil
and memories that feed on familiar places
and the way the sunset hits the trees behind the house when it's getting ready to say

I like mountain views behind highways
and the NYC skyline amidst deer-ruled forests
and the occasional bear family that roams through our garbage
when they think we aren't looking.

I long for crisp October mornings
and the snow that inevitably hits and accumulates
and the knowing paths behind the house
that are still flattened by small innocent feet that have since grown and left.

And I cannot deny
the Irish and Scottish in me that wants me to return
to my home --
to the ground that knows be by name
and carries the songs of my childhood.

I cannot deny
that try as I might
there is no fight against
knowing where you belong.

And so I let my feet feel the crumble of dirt
and stretch up to the sky
pretending that maybe one day
I can let myself grow here again.

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