COMING HOME
I weep
the way a waterfall does,
standing still in jubilance as mountainous waters
flow over me.
I can barely stay conscious drenched in such ecstasy.
Yet, somewhere in my bones
I know I am flying into a constant state of such a thing.
I am like a traveler
having re-entered the space surrounding home once again!
To turn away now, would be equivalent to cutting my engines
and choosing to lay desolate, hanging in the black of space
on the periphery of and between all the worlds of forever.
Yet, to gather myself in constancy
beyond the journey itself,
is the gift.