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
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