I try to stay on course,
to find the little joys,
to be present to those that are near me.
yet my wandering mind drags me left,
pondering what comes next,
where i, where you,
will take our next steps.
they say we’re homesick,
that we’re missing our past home.
what if we are homesick,
for the home that is to come?
we are sick for a home that we visit in our daydreams,
one that we can’t perceive with full vision.
a home with walls held up by self-crafted hopes,
all imperfections carved away with great precision.
a place where deep blue days of hurt and pain still clearly exist,
but are smoldered by the scarlet fires of love and passion that ever presently persist.
they say I’m homesick,
that I’m missing my past home.
I’d say I’m sick over my home that is to come.
Typed Out on November 29, 2020 in the Notes App of Owner/Content Creator: Katy Stalter
Comments