Places of opportunity
I walk along, trying to find my home
I think I live in an apartment on the highest floor
One I have to ride an elevator to
One with a white door and big windows
I try the lock
Will it open for me
All such a puzzle
When I open my eyes
I see low buildings and fields
Perhaps not a place of opportunity
But one of rest, of twilight days
A stopping point
Maybe I will move on
Pack away my books and words
Take a train, see a new horizon
But life is the same anywhere
You need to eat, sleep and create
No matter the view from the window
I am growing used to my waking landscape
I like the cobbled streets
Old church and castle grounds
I like my early morning walks
When the sky makes up its mind
Will it rain or will it shine
It rarely matters which
The people say hello and nod
I have been here so long that I belong
Not fully but in a way
Perhaps I am now part of the world around me
Rather than dazed and sleeping
It feels good to be awake
And then to sleep and dream
Both worlds are mine in a way
So real I can touch them
Feel their differences and similarities
I look up to the skies
Full of grey clouds but the birds are singing
It is humid and close
Just like a steamy city street
I open the windows and write my words
For now, in this moment, I feel at home.
