the road back home.....

it's merely
an unraveling then
isn't it
of everything

a seemingly
devolution
in consciousness
what was once thought
to have been raised so high
plummets
spirals
with the weight
of all that conviction
all those ideas
shattering into a million pieces
onto the rich
rich soil of life

it's an unraveling then
isn't it
of everything
we once held true
and I don't mean
most things
as I once
naively
thought
but actually
an unraveling
of every
single
thing

not just the things
we're finally certain
are not true
not just the things
we finally see
were in no one's
greatest good

but more importantly
much more urgently
is the letting go
of the things
we were certain
infallibly certain
to be
the truth

this space
of no truth
I believe
I humbly offer
as the field
where Rumi
patiently
silently
now awaits our return

I used to think
my road there
was urgent
I used to try
to quicken my pace
I now view it
as more of a ramble
a wandering of sorts
I suppose
back home

where the roots
I trip on
the raging rivers
I swim through
the desert heat
that scalds my skin
the numbing cold
of the northern winters
the scorpions sting
the vast and utter
at times
sheer barrenness
of the land

are all
equally as important
as the warm fire
the open arms
that await
my daring return

it's like
there is this door
in another realm
a hidden door
a secret portal
some might say
and one day
God opens it
and says
it's time for you to go
go out
go find yourself
your pure beauty
in the swath
and decay
of the human life

it's half adventure
and half
a doctorate's degree
to our very own soul

and we fly through the sky
for days, weeks, years
sometimes a whole
human lifetime
and yes
it's an adventure
and yes
some of us
actually do
get to discover our very soul
but underneath all of that
there is this yearning
isn't there
for some it's conscious
and for others
a vague feeling
of misplacement

but always
it sits there
doesn't it.....
this constant yearning
for our road
back home