I never asked Him before
I assumed his silencewas pure and etherial
I assumed that only in
turmoil might She whisper
my name
How could I have
underestimated my soul's presence
to guide me
and reveal to me in moments ?
I thank you for showing up, dear soul
in the ways you have
and know that I do not have
to make it on my own any more
You are my own
You are my home
My Soul
Love this, Susan! I have been struggling with not making my home a memorial...homage to my past and past relations. I read something that reminded me that my home is not a place to house my material possessions or the people I've loved...or even my dearest memories. Home is so much more than matter or person. It's Soul and Soul's expression of me, now, not in the past or in some future date. Sigh. Your poem says it so well. Tomorrow I'm interviewing organizers to help me part with past memories and find my new dreams, today!!
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