Coming Home Again

I have been gone so long I almost lost myself, my wonderings, my dreams, my bearings. I had forgotten what the sky smells like in early Spring and the sound a clothesline full of clean white sheets makes on a blue-sky summer afternoon. I want to know again the rhythm of the Earth…seasons, days, hours of those days. It is not that the siren song of “purpose” maliciously wooed me from these things but now it is time to turn my face again, to move deliberately, as I had done before, toward an unknown place, toward something new and clean and invigorating. Soon my step will change direction. New rooms with huge open windows invite an exploration. I am returning home, to books, to writing, to sewing, to gardening, to grandmothering…a creative palette of imaginative colors I wish to try. I will dip my heart and soul into this new life. I am ready. The journey has been long, productive, enriching, painful and enlightening. I am changed. I am a small pilgrim on an unpretentious road that only just meanders off toward the sound of the sea. I will refresh my being.