Belonging Poems

Fusion

Keeping our romance,
We belong together, Love
Fusing mortal souls.

My Home Is You

In the world's vast and troubled sea, I'll be forsaken, left to drift
Friends will fade like autumn leaves, and family ties will lose their grip
I'll be a stranger in the night, with no shelter, no place to call my own
But in the darkness, I'll search for love, though it may seem like an endless moan

Yet,

Morning Unfolds

A soft wind lifts the curtains.
light spills across the wooden floor.
dust spirals in lazy circles
and the quiet hum of the house
feels like a gentle heartbeat.

I step outside
the earth smells of wet grass and stone.
a bird’s song cuts through the stillness
small, specific, lively
and i bear in mind I belong here.

The sun melts my skin
the world extended,

Big Sandy: Recollection in the Free State

The hollow remains unphotographed.
Memory, not landscape, frames it—
a road cleaving winter in two,
children laughing while gravity
negotiated its own terms.

Neighbors spoke without flourish.
Their kindness was practical,
never advertised, always assumed.
You could leave your grief
on the porch overnight;
someone would tuck it in
and leave bread beside it
by morning.

Coal knew every surname
but never asked for praise.
It shaped the valley,
not into

Beyond the Paper Gate

Now you stand at the threshold of shadowed trials—
a challenge cloaked in whispers of what may come.
Debts awaken, ancient scribes of your past,
etching secrets into the walls where you once stood.

More debts rise to start anew,
in lands where shadows whisper and command—
money prowls with hungry eyes,
blind to your status, deaf to the paper gate’s cries.

Unyielding,

What is love?

What is love, really—
a figment of hope
sharp enough to shatter
centuries of lived patriarchy?

To think
education could make a dent
in what’s already carved
in bone & name.

To think
a stranger could be chosen
over the familial veins of caste, of home
over the womb of belief one never questioned.

Perhaps what’s
whispered in secret
was always meant to be hidden—
buried, before it flowers into

GOT MY DEMONS, GOT MY PRIDE

As I sit here, all alone
          And as I'm wondering if, I'll even eat at all;    
                As I'm taking my first step towards;
    

Roots Without Soil

I.

I fold my mother's silver spoon—crescent bright,
worn soft as secrets whispered through the night.
Her thumb's warm press, a tender, sacred trace,
curves like a prayer held close in time and place.
Now bitter dust swirls in plastic's cold embrace,
instant coffee falls—no homeland to retrace.

II.

The clerk repeats my name—a broken hymn,
I spell each letter till the sounds grow

Where We Belong

We belong to other people,
In their photographs,
In their memories,
And in their hearts,
Because sometimes that is all we have.

The idea of wanting
To belong to someone,
To someone who tells us that they
Need us just as much as we need
Them—that is what the
Meaning of life should be.
To feel loved and to give it
Back and nothing else, because
Everything else

Tell Me What This Means And My Hope For Humanity Will Find Peace

Yesterday I forgot how to fly. 
I went to take off
and the sky wouldn't take me.
Clouds too puffed up to let 
someone like me
into their streets.
They must have taken them -
my wings. 
They think I don't belong there. 
I know because that's where 
the rest of humanity is -
on the ground.
Now that I think about

A Sense of Belonging

"Romantic lovers require from each other at least the facade
of reason: The desire to be what romantic love makes us
appear in the other's eyes. We want to imagine we are
deserving of the love we inspire."      ~Maggie Gallagher


We've been slow dancing—
    romancing in a seductive prelude
Wooed by the

Questions of A Confused College Girl

What do I do?
Where do I go?
Will there ever be a day
When I'm certain of what I know?
I compare myself to others far too easily
Hoping to become a person I'm never meant to be
Does anyone else mourn the death of childhood
Just as much as I?
Or stand alone in winter's chill
And admire the starry sky?
Sentimentalism haunts

HARMONY AND BELONGING

      At dusk, at the beginning of the night,
        the majestic divine transition;
      the sun undoes its yellow splendor
      The moon presents its silvery glow...
        

Branches of Belonging

I was born with the meaning of home  
running through my veins,  
like sunlight weaving  
through branches,  
casting warmth on cold earth.  

In shadows, I gathered light,  
each ray a promise,  
each beam a whisper  
filling spaces of despair.  

With hands outstretched,  
I became a

That feeling of belonging

my dog is loved
and that’s a fact
yet it lives in fear
of abandonment

why so i ask
you have a home
it’s never happened
you’ve never been left behind

you’re safe
why is it you live in fear
when I head out that door
your panic so intense

frantically pacing
your heart is racing
it’s a primal fear
wild beyond control

how can i put your mind at ease?


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