Museum of Architecture, Washington DC

Sometimes a light shines out from nowhere,

It seems, striking you right between the eyes.

Like a target struck by the arrow of another’s heart,

Replete with abundant love, and an awareness

That you were always watched, and always safe.

You just didn’t know it, because you could not see.

Then the hand that was obscuring your vision lifts,

And for the first time that light floods into your cranial cavity,

Filtering down into your tired limbs, surging its way

Through your tattered veins, broken heart

And over your over-sharpened tongue.

It almost hurts, makes you wince and squint-grin

With the brilliance that it affords. But the light

Stays on, inside your space, illuminating darkness

So full of stuff. So full of the debris left by life already lived.

Like a salve it cleanses you, touches you, heals you

In ways you’d never imagined. It makes you calm,

And makes you laugh; reveals your inner sanctum,

Like a flower on the verge of blooming, that with

Tender whispers opens and fills the senses with

Familiar yet exotic perfume. The room that once

Was empty, now filled with desires long left

By the hearthside, in another lifetime, another body,

Another mind. A form emerges from this light,

To now sit by your side and take your hand,

To tell you that “Everything is going to be all right baby”

“Everything is going to be all right”. And I am home.



MPoWriMo Sticker Vintage 20s

2 thoughts on “Home Beacon – MPoWriMo

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