Breadcrumbs

Easy are the paths to follow when I'm young and fancy free, home is comfort, joy, a blessing, caring folks and constancy. My borders are the playroom, garden, narrow spaces, fledgling child, questions answered with a bear hug, nothing crazy, nothing wild. Later, as my frontiers widen, gone the band aid to placate, in the cauldron of confusion, far beyond the garden gate. Childhood greeting, pale and fleeting, life no longer black and white, paths collide and intermingle, as I ponder dark and light. Walking through the forest blindly, Hansel with no Gretel near, breadcrumbs are a cruel delusion, still my courage, stoke my fear. Faith and pride and resolution drive my journey on, because, though I've travelled many pathways, home is where it always was.