How will I know when I'm home?
An address? A color? A shape or a size?
Is home where I receive my mail?
Or - where I rest my head at night?
Perhaps - it's the silent snow falling?
Settling into this new year...this new life...this new and old and very familiar landscape.
There are times that I stop to pinch myself. Is this real? Am I imagining?
It's my mother tongue. It's my favorite comfort food.
It's cold out there...but remains warm where it resides inside me.
Maybe - then - I need no longer question?
I do know.
I am home.