May you always be coming home. May you always be turning in the direction of your breath, of air moving inward and outward. May you always be reaching down, deep into your core, into who you are. May you always be walking, seeking, soaring, wandering into your own heart like a nomad in search of water, swooping like a hungry hawk, eyes peeled for sustenance, like a persistent root, boring down, down into the black earth. May you always be always looking ahead, casting about for the light, even when you are in darkness. May you be a seed in soil, a star behind a cloud, a fish glittering in deep water, a flame flickering in the hearth. May you always be home, be the place where you find comfort, be the sweetness on your own tongue, be the warmth against your own cheek when you lay your head down. May you always be the door you open, the door you step into. May you always be coming home.
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What a comfort. What I needed to hear.
Musical, mystical, magically woven into the fabric of poetry. Thank you Suzanna.