Sunday, April 10, 2011

30/10: Coming Home

Beloved, sometimes deep in
the night I crumple myself into
a tight ball and crawl into
earthworm holes so I can
burrow my way back to a
land that haunts my heart.
Back to lilt in language
and the raise of eyebrow
I speak so eloquently,
to no avail here. Back to
the chaotic streets, so
smoky and vibrant. Back
to edge of night, and the
warmth of friendship
tucked inside there. Back
the lap of family and friends,
ever ready, always warm. Back
to where I come from.

In the morning when I wake,
I open up one petal at a time.
I soak in the city and come
alive.  As I navigate blocks
and city  grid, speaking its
language  no longer foreign
to me I fall in love again.
Before the light change
tells me to walk, off I go.
Forward,  always forward.
There is a rhythm here that
keeps me buzzing, even
before my morning coffee.
There is a dance on the
streets that turns me on.
I know the same thing
all of us in this city know.
Beloved, I am home.

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