Tag Archives: home

Windows Are Rolled Down

25 Apr

Last night I was driving back from work. I enjoy my shift, starting at 3:30 and getting off at 11:30. I never have to sit frustrated in bumper to bumper traffic. Especially when I get off and midnight is approaching, it is a different world.

I roll my windows down.

This, my soundtrack:

The lights are soft, even slightly blurry because of the tiredness in my eyes. Luckily, the drive is only fifteen minutes and the air is cool on my skin.

I look around at the lights, at this familiar road that has quickly become a well-worn path.

and I know I don’t have to run away.

the thought splits open something inside of me, something deep and painful.

Some longing, some dissatisfaction I have always known to be there.

I have always just thought it was a part of me,

that it was my lot in life to wander,

that I couldn’t be me without constantly changing locations,

that I could never ever settle down.

but lately, I’ve felt a rare sense.

A sense of coming home.

And I know it has nothing to do with my “status” in life.

It has nothing to do with my location I set on my facebook, having a job, or whether my suitcases remain packed or stored in the closet.

It has little to do with a steady, committed, loving relationship, though I know that has changed me in ways I can’t even describe.

I know I don’t need to run away because I am finally ok with myself.

I am at peace.

I have everything I need.

Because you see, this Grace that found me, it swallowed my life-long fear.

It has settled my anxious wandering heart that is always hunting for the next thing, the next place, the next person that I thought would ease my pain.

“You don’t have to run away,”

I whisper to the night air on the highway, to myself, to the little girl in me that longs for home.

And I finally believe it.

Art Is Home

23 Jul

notes build like bricks
to create structures to be filled
with souls who find home there

words mix like swirling colors in paint cans
making drab and old weathered browns
new blush reds
and starry-eyed blues

we live inside art because we need to know
our slight hope of excruciating beauty
really means something

that this doesn’t have to fade with childhood
this belief fireflies glow because they need to
light up the black
that willow trees push their way through thick layers
because they have to see the sun

and we’ll know the best thing to fill time and rooms with
is hysterical laughter
and songs that walk through walls

we live inside creativity because
if we don’t see newness
in each morning
we cave into death

we know if we begin to think it’s all been done before
we may as well cripple our legs our gouge out our eyes

so we swing wide the front door
ignoring locks and alarms systems
we let our hearts become a canvas
and our minds a sketch pad
we allow words written across our limbs

and then we know

we live inside beauty because
we need to know beauty lives inside us

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