For The Sunday Muse Prompt #179:
The scent of life and of living
hangs heavy on this place,
Here, where the weight
of memory and first things
lose themselves in the labyrinth
of the mind.
First step, first walk, first smile.
First words – garbled beyond
recognition but finding
the connection between
the proffered body
First leaving, first returning
then leaving – the first steps
of a lonesome journey
to a far country, of seeking
the wily welcome of the open world
calling – siren-like – from beyond
the walls that time has built.
The days have their dangers
and the nights their flights of fancy
but in moments of respite and clarity
I find myself here. Home.