Reaching Back "Home"
Hoping my forefathers and foremothers reach back out to me.
How can "home" mean so much to me when I’ve never truly known it
Family: broken, battered, and blended
How can I truly own it?
Gathered around the elders to hear the tales that bond us together
Longing for belonging, I often dream of being wrapped in the warm arms of
Clothed in the hand-dyed and hand-woven garments of my artisan ancestors
Smelling the pleasing aroma of spices and smoke in the air
My body and soul being fed from the same soil my fathers toiled
What a heavy burden it is to hold something so close to your heart, but so far out of your reach
So, although I know what “home” means to me, I’ve never truly known it
But everyday I sow seeds in hopes that one day I will be shown it