Home?

I’m only halfway home;

I have journeys to make

And risks to take;

This microcosm called me is not done growing, yet. 

I’ve turned my face upward on sunny days

Hid under broad leaves on the rainy

And I’ve learned this: 

I am alive, I am here;

When I am gone,

I hope to become alive and sentient

In the soil

Growing flowers and weeds and taking on rain

And worms

And smelling of living dirt 

Continuing on, outside this body;

This excites me, brings me joy

Now, I exist, and then, I will exist-

I was here

I will still be here