Home Is Where the Heart Is

I climbed to the top of the pile of hearts Marching softly over each quivering mass As I ascended, I crushed each thought bubble Eliminating doubt Continuing up a sheltered path that swallowed my shadow Stepping over wild flowers that knew I was coming I was visited by awareness If I vaulted from this pile I could fly I leapt, soaring with a new sensation Of possessing my own wings