Home…

As the grass drinks thirstily the dew,
on the exhaled breath of a timeless sky,
once more, my feet touch mother earth.
My heart has been heavy, and I am weary.
Thus I have returned "home".

Following the wispy forms of fog ghosts
as day follows night
I walk again the ground of the fathers.
The silence of this place speaks
in loud voices to my troubled spirit.
The warmth of the arms
of the one whom waits beckons.

How do I hide from him,
what my eyes betray?

Spirits intertwined
before time was numbered know without words.
I would protect him,
keep him from knowing and grieving,
for my pain is his as his is mine.

How silently he sits,
waiting,
knowing that I will come.
Has he felt me, each time
I ran my fingers through the thick pelt of his fur,
disguised as an errant breeze?
Or my tears, on his shoulders,
drops from cloud filled skies. 

My brother,
the strong one,
the one who's heart
pumps the blood running through my frame.
The one who holds a piece of me
now and then in the palm of his hand,
warming and strengthening me,
when I am cold and alone.

Has he felt my love,
and happiness at the bonding,
when the sun shone warm over his right shoulder 

Yes, he has.

The drums,
chants,
old ones who would speak
strangely silent.

The air still, hushed.

I have no need of eyes
to find the one I seek,
though they overflow now to behold him.

As I sit beside him, slipping my hand into his.

I'm Home

04/07/2003

Posted on 04/07/2003
Copyright © 2024 Kate Demeree