We Land On The Softness Of Home. Poem by RIC BASTASA

I am sitting on a stairway
just sitting here

i am not waiting for someone
just sitting here anyway

i am watching dusts and birds
flying low on the trees,

you know what? i have found peace
in all that come and go

watching all these make me feel
like what i am seeing: dusts, birds

too light with their own kind of wings,
and always moving or drifting

and i imagine how serene can nights
be when finally we land on the softness
of home.