Home is

This subject is obviously preying on my mind. The Oracle knows. She said it was okay to have a two line puente.

 

Home is where the heart is, always or never.

Look and you may find it through the mists of midday,

 

not in the dark dance of icy mornings, nor in

the salt smile of the ocean, a sop for fools

 

who see hearth fires in a cracked glass,

though ice, steel-cold, coats budding shoots.

 

For those who dream of tropic seas and the comfort of

cushioned wealth, when frost webs splinter the panes

 

~the signs are there in the clouds

and the rumbling of the earth~

 

Remember, she says, ice melts, glass breaks,

and desire is devoured by death.

 

Listen; a voice, a word lingers where fish dart

and wild dogs howl the moon—hope is sailing.

 

Only on a night like this, washed clean by ocean

winds, can we see the stars beyond the clouds,

 

fiery ghosts of the youth of the world, and where

the stars shine and when the midday mists clear, home.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

12 thoughts on “Home is”

  1. Oh. . .sigh. . .lovely. It could be a song.
    The two-line bridge works perfectly.
    So, I waited to read yours until I did mine. . .which is a puente with many similar words. (Of course.) 😉

  2. So many things clash. Then there is the night “washed clean” (by ocean winds, no less) wherein we can see stars, “fiery ghosts of youth” as well. Then home, much better than the opening saw. A home that’s earned, that much has been endured for.

    1. Sometimes I think home is so difficult to define. I don’t think it can be created out of interior decorating, tidy lawns, building stuff around it like holidays and filling it with other acquired stuff. It is a state of mind as much as anything and if is a little like a mirage. You have to squint to see it, but when you do and you embrace it, all the muddy bits and paint-peeling bits, you’ve got it forever.

      1. I agree that home is difficult to apprehend and has little to with just-so walls and frills alone for decor. I’m inspired by your assertion that once we see, if squinting at first, and embrace home, then we’ll have it forever. And the rougher bits are more like home than the parts that reveal an intention having everything perfect (whatever that might mean). Yes, let’s have the “paint-peeling” parts.

      2. So much of it is fashion colours, chain store design, endless redecorating, tidying the driveway or the ornamental shrubs. Who thinks that the fallen leaves, the birds, the neighbour’s fence, the potholes in the lane are all part of home too?

      3. We should think this way, because those are parts of home, more so. I am moved reading about the leaves, the birds, the fence, and potholes. Yes, these are home!

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