Coming Home


Coming home…
You walk
through the door
not the same
as when you walked the other way…
Some days
over and over again
through the same door
not noticing the subtle changes…
A year,
another year
and then you are this lumbering
from another country and culture
your skin no longer your own…
And those on the other side of the threshold…
They too have changed
lounging over the edge of the couch
as easily as if it were a tree branch
or slithering in and out of the tub
like a snaking river that winds for ever
through deserts and mountains
and concrete shopping malls,
in and out as if in a dance,
now all in the same room,
personalities prickle, then soften,
and ceremonial masks drop away
and the essence of being
no matter the miles traveled
or boundaries crossed…
for the heart remembers
what is true…

© Lea Goode-Harris
April 27, 2007

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