Always Home
Across the tossing tumult of reality
my brain gasps for truth, for freedom.
This inconvenient leprosy of mind,
whose scarred visage must be quelled.
My own reflection has no scars,
yet, all about are those that insist that ...
AH! What a perfect sunrise!
no secret concoction, no peering prying eyes
-hidden yawns or dulcet tones or pseudo smiles,
suggesting - DEMANDING I ...no, this day
I will go to where only God knows where I am.
I will dance with the forgotten frantic weeds
- spayed and sprayed, dandelions of disdain
live here unfettered
This house, neglected, forgotten in
a field of imperfection to those
who can not see what is perfect, is Heaven to me!
Apples with scarred blemished skins
beg to be loved - excused for
their imperfections shall
be my nourishment.
The passing of each day -
my romantic vision transformed,
my own pace, my own space, where
freedom hugs me, warms me, feeds me
and loves me
-sleep dear child, you are free.
I am found, but then, God always knew
...where I was.
Copyright © Craig Cornish | Year Posted 2023
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