Yes. I know. I know. "We can never go home again."
Home is such a transitional status anyway.
Some of us have been evicted from countries, not less residences.
Some of us have left of free will and wandered happily, have had growth experiences while wandering.
Not all changes are sorrow...
Just simply unavoidable.
It is just that I remember apple pie and these beautiful, light yellow curtains with a pink
primrose design wafting in and out of a
But, the patent leather shoes became too small.
The era changed.
The music aged.
The neighbors moved.
The bakery is still there but the man with the flushed cheeks and blue gray eyes who had
a crush on my mother is gone.
"Sweet heart, " existence says, "Perhaps you
Should consider impermanence is the only thing
Yellow curtains come and go.
The pet parakeet who loved you may catch up with you and travel where you travel.
God will lead you, travel with you everywhere, show you so much.
But, maybe we transition from this gallery to the next.
From one experience to another.
Maybe when we are rejected one place, the
Other is tailored expressly for us.
Maybe that little, brown dog with the serious eyes will follow you to somewhere better
Maybe you will see her in passing but let
her know you are happy for her and what a
blessing she was.
Perhaps home is not a certain street, address or
house but the most remarkable aspect of heaven
you already are aware of in some aspect of your soul.
Maybe it is all here but on a differing plane.
Maybe it's all just one galaxy over.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem