Finding Home

 

As a teen, walking to school,
feeling homeless, no where
in the world that I belonged,
white picket fences
and milk bottles on doorsteps
made me cry.
I was a lonely soul
in search of home.

As a young woman,
lonely in my marriage,
I walked the streets
after nightfall,
looking in windows.
I remember a woman
sitting on a couch reading,
in soft lamplight's glow,
looking up, smiling,
as a young man brought her
a cup of tea.
I was in wonderment
at that sort of caring.

As a young mom,
i wore the wheels off
several baby carriages,
pushing my children
through miles and miles
of summer afternoons,
looking in yards,
looking in windows,
seeing other lives
- ordinary lives -
living the life I dreamed of
that never was mine.

Because all I wanted
was a partner, my soul's journey
was to live my life alone, to make
a family with my children, and,
when my children had grown,
with dogs, and with friends,
and to have life be enough.

I found Home at the shore,
where I found peace and joy
I had struggled so hard to win,
letting the susurration of the breakers
wash through me, through my ears,
my brain, my being,
until I was as calm as the lull
between waves, as strong and silent 
as the smooth stones scattered
along the shore, as patient as
the sand dollar, that spins home
from the sand and grit around it,
and carries it within.