We Can Come Home (Again) – a poem

Eliot was right
we do come home
albeit from an unfamiliar way,
and know ourselves once again.

We find,
before the humiliations of life
that so thoroughly shut us down,
joy, creativity, play, and wonder.

Pain, darkness, failure, fear –
this is the unfamiliar path, the way.

Opening to pain and darkness
and the failures and fears of life,
we can, by choosing,
remove the heavy scales we carry
that keep light in.

In stillness, and in silence,
and in being attentive
to the beauty off a single blade of grass,
or the magic of a pine tree
reaching for the sun,
or a covey of quail walking fast,
we can come home (again)
to that place of deepest love
that gives rise to
joy, creativity, play, and wonder.

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