the view outside the window
does not look so familiar.
my footsteps wander down the hall,
yet the echo sounds peculiar.
meditations are not as quiet
as they once were before.
how i miss the comfort of your touch,
but i’m not a little girl anymore.
i’ll follow you across the world -
that is my choice.
that’s all given.
i chose to bring them
along the journey
we are living.
-Writing on Waves
This poem is about moving on with life, I left behind a home of meditations.
If life is a journey, then I travel to many places that no longer feel familiar. Not even the view outside the window, the footsteps down the hall, or even the meditations are like how they used to be.
There is not much I bring with me on the journey; I pack light. Love. Trust. These are the only things I need to bring to feel safe with you.