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My Old Home
It was there that I was born, not in life
but in spirit.
It was there, under the stars,
sun, rain, and trees that I became
Free.
The red dirt under my feet- Oh the hot January sun shining down
on my face!
The air, the ground, the world was dry.
We followed the stains where water had once run free
through the forests of peeling trees
barefoot, uncaring of the dangers.
Everything was such a mystery.
Each step into the shaded seclusion had the possibility of being
a mistake, and that made it much more magical.
So much had changed from the first day I walked the path.
I felt so much lighter then - on the first day,
compared to the last.
Everything around me was still free, the birds still flew,
the wind still blew as it pleased, and the trees still stood as they always had,
and yet I had changed.
No longer was I free, for the weight of reality and helplessness had bound me.
Past the playground and past the tennis courts we walked,
we had planned to walk to my favorite spot,
where I felt good, on the last day.
The sky called my name,
the Magpies led the way,
the Cockatoos were yelling with words of encouragement
to run, run forward,
run away.
My feet carried me through the woods as the fresh,
clean air of the gums filled my lungs,
crushing long fallen leaves despite their protests.
As my feet ran and my mind ran faster,
but She was right there next to me the whole time.
She knew I was scared,
She knew why I chose to spend my last day with her.
This is where I was free, where I could think,
so I brought her here.
My Best Friend.
I knew She would understand this place,
with the same love I did.
I wanted to give her a place to remember me.
A place to come and know she will never be alone.
In the tall, dry grass, we laid hidden to the outside world.
We watched the sky,
and I knew I was Home.
I knew I would never feel the dry grass against by
bare arms, the warm air in my lungs,
with the bugs crawling on my legs,
and feel my best friend by my side.
I would never feel the same
comfort, safety and love I felt in that moment.
Nothing other than that single moment could give me this feeling.
We walked slowly,
back through the woods, the leaves saying their last goodbyes,
the Magpies staying in their trees.
I had walked the path hundreds of times,
and though nothing had changed since we walked through,
nearly two hours before, it was like a new path,
as I was seeing it with new eyes.
Past the tennis courts, and past the playground,
each step getting farther and farther from my Home
until I was outside my house.
In the grass, I knew what it felt like to feel Home.
To feel you were meant to be there,
in that moment.
And I will wait the rest of my life,
to feel the wonderful, love,
fear, anguish, sorrow, happiness, remembrance,
annoyance and helplessness that is Home.
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I wrote this poem about when I moved from Australia to Rhode Island. It's about home not being so much of a permanent place, but a mindset.