Going Home
I am finding I am going home
if I haven’t in some measure
found the landing port
that is in sight of
my true and original self
This is not the trip to the River Styx
that we all make eventually
and in some sense make all our lives
This is the journey to who I was
before I was tamed and told who to be
I have travelled and travelled
until I met myself in some dark place
filled with drunks and dreamers
cynics and believers
and the mostly undefined
I was that strange
and tortuous Falstaff
before I was redeemed by force
now I am that man and content
to have my mentor and champion
I was Wyatt Earp
and now I am again
with my Doc Holliday
who stands by me going into
those fights others would avoid
I am Ozzy with my Sharon,
the Devil with his sidekick
an angel of light and the lost
and damned soul to be shunned
a wanderer who is no longer lost
mapping a path in the wilder ways
beating the bounds for devils
“comforting the disturbed
and disturbing the comfortable”,
and always aiming for home
I am coming in sight of it now
but I’ll never reach it
just see its lights and be comforted
move closer by decreasing degrees
until maybe I find it’s on the far side of the River
I am lifted and enlivened
by the lights of home
a place I’ve never seen inside
of a place I’ll never be inside of
a place that lives inside of me.
