I Am Home

Walking the labyrinth, sitting in the Silence, it is possible to go home.

Here where the breath of the flute carries me away like the fluff of the dandelion and the silence wraps around me with the warmth of my old blankie. Here, where bowls of fruit taste like ambrosia and my dreams rock me into the deep sleep of childhood.

How could I have forgotten? Not the people, or the places. I remember these like the color of my own eyes. It is the love I had forgotten, the sense of belonging, of being inside myself and whole.

But it has not forgotten me, that is how I know I am home. My blood does not run through veins here, but my love runs through hearts, tying us like bundles of firewood, burning, growing warm with the desire to be together.

I am home. Only for a few days, but that will sustain me for so much longer.