I walk in the rain
Get a rhythm where it is not about
Home
Except it is all about home
(Not)
Feeling it
Seeing it
Being it
If it reaches my head
Home
Like a weight pulled upwards
My steps will crumble
Lose traction
Trip on the slipperiness of misery
Tired as nuclear dust
Not the dust I know -
The dust I can sweep up and put back together again
The birds sing at night
When the light falls in the dark room
A tortuous call
You cannot dream you cannot dream
I think of Bird Man
He'll be wearing his pink tee shirt pale blue jumper
His face white and quiet
A soft line of a smile walking in the rain
Understanding
Home
I walk in circles
The rain gently flowing like my feet
Cuckoo spit garbage on the lavender bush
Like pollution on my skin all around me
It is imperative
To keep moving
To keep moving
Home
It makes sense now
The patterns and lines
The circles and time
The smooth kiss of a trach-line
One clean try
Enough.
I walk in the rain
Get a rhythm where it is not about
Home
Except it is all
All about home.
It IS all about home. Find your rhythm. Find your pace, a way to be safe, when you go home.
ReplyDeleteWalking in the rain can trigger lots of memories....and they all make sense in their way!
ReplyDeleteThere is nothing so comforting as being home, safe and being yourself. Hard as it is being away, think of it now as being on your way back home to be secure, feeling right and knowing how never to let go in future. I can see you there now Jae.
ReplyDeleteHome is an elusive concept- it can be the most reassuring thing that you are always trying to either leave or return to... to wash off the pollution and go home in the rain is a beautiful thing...
ReplyDeleteHome is in your heart, wherever your body may be.
ReplyDeleteMy hope each day is, "you will soon be home," in the nicest way. There's an old Christmas song, "Home For Christmas," I'm thinking "home before Christmas." Gentle breezes of autumn. In the drought here, we did have rain for the past two days, and the world of planets and animals and all mankind are grateful. Hummmm....I wonder is there a connection between water and memory?
ReplyDelete