too long have I strayed
like a ship at sea,
cast gently upon shore
after shore
yet never finding the solace,
the peace that I yearn for.
at last my trembling fingers take
ink, and spirit
and let them run unbridled
weaving words into a haven,
walls with paned-glass windows
to let the light inside.
the heavens sigh, relieved
they will not be troubled tonight
by my earnest conversation
with the unknown.
I have captured it and pinned it
upon this paper
with an alchemist’s delight -
o pen, I have come home.