A black and blue house,
cul de sac, childhood, white walled – prison.
Suburbs and grassy fields,
longing for escape.
Family histories settled in neat little gardens,
tall fences and long driveways,
a place to return for holidays and birthdays.
***
A small city,
planned and political,
a place for protests and presidents.
The beginning of a life,
business casual, happy hour, monthly paycheck – prison.
Graph paper streets and Lego buildings,
longing for escape.
Stability and reputation,
overtime and late nights,
401k mortgage material.
A good life for somebody else.
***
A country on the other side of the world,
strange languages and fermented foods,
skyscraper, overworked, new career – prison.
manmade forests and bustling industry,
longing for escape.
Comfort in foreign friends,
weekend trips and photographic evidence,
life depicted differently from reality.
Online updates from classmates getting married,
buying houses, having children, building homes.
While my bags are waiting,
legs fidgeting, wanderlust building.
***
Searching for feelings in scrolling scenery,
cities and friends passing by
in blurry windows and rushing wind.
Some of us were made for leaving,
living on backpacks and water bottles,
numb to the existence we’ve chosen.
No place to return for holidays and birthdays.
***
I found home once.
Tucked away in the mountains of some distant land.
Campsite, fire pit, bucket shower – freedom.
Surrounded by strangers
trying to find their own ways,
ambitious eyes focused on some distant horizon.
With these people,
I felt the most me I’ve ever been.
***
I’ve been searching for that feeling ever since,
losing myself in infinite sunrises,
picking up bits of me while I leave others behind.
I like to think it’s out there somewhere,
a feeling to called “home,”
a time to stop moving for a while.
A feeling of true belonging.
All inclusive, community driven, likeminded – living.
Of chasing skylines together,
sandy sweat and salted suntans.
Of swinging our legs and connecting with nothing but empty air.
Brian, I know you’ll find it, when you’re busy and at the least expected, suddenly you’ll feel at home. Most of us go through the motions from one milestone onto the next without really thinking about its meaning or where it will take us. Life is a journey over which we try our best to plan and to control and yet sometimes we get detrailed. Sawyer loves this word and often intentionally “detrails” his trains so as to begin building all over again just for fun. When I found his tracks and trains strewn all over and wrecked and asked him what happened, he simply replied, “A stone came through.” Then he moves on to create again.
Awwwww Sawyer is so cute!
And yes, I’ve found “home” in short, fleeting moments that are always quick but always magical 🙂
Hey Brian,
Fantastic Poem. I’d describe it as very creative. Specifically, I really like the line ‘business casual, happy hour, monthly paycheck – prison’. Its so deep and it carries a significant meaning. Sometimes, we find ourselves in a cycle that can be hard to break. Its important we find things we love and try to do them as often as possible.
Wow Sean, thank you so much for your kind and positive words! I know it’s been a while since I’ve published a post, but thank you fo much for reading and I’m glad you were able to get something from it!
I agree – cycles can be very hard to break, but sometimes they can be good. It’s important to realize which cycles we fall into that are productive and which ones are not! Thank you again so much for being a reader!
Hey Brian,
Fantastic Poem. I’d describe it as very creative. Specifically, I really like the line ‘business casual, happy hour, monthly paycheck – prison’. Its so deep and it carries a significant meaning. Sometimes, we find ourselves in a cycle that can be hard to break. Its important we find things we love and try to do them as often as possible.