Dawning Creations

There are shooting stars, here
We’re across the state,
but still, home.
Miles are only numbers.
Home is a larger spectrum.
Home is a great expanse of experience and beauty and chaos,
wrapped in stained glass dreams
others and ourselves have planned.

Who are we outside of home?
Who are we here ?

Flying,
flaming stones,
conjure me the courage to continue
on as I have many times before.
I need to know myself and you,
all over, again.
This time I’m unafraid but still leary
to let it all sink in.
I long to have your audacity,
your tenacity.
Shooting stars, keep on soaring.

Grip me closer,
familiar love and remind me why
why I’m sticking around this place.
I know, I’m starting therapy, again.
I’m not ashamed, anymore.
I couldn’t quit the very thing that kept
our turbulent sea at bay.

Now, I’ll admit,
it’s possibly for me.
It should’ve started that way but it couldn’t.
I loved me much less than I loved you.
There is worth, here
as you’ve tried endlessly to prove.

I have been writing too many love poems,lately.
I’m just so jumbled.
With you, I’m not so indistinguishable,
the way the rest of this world can make me feel
I’m strong but you
make me stronger.

Let’s lay and watch shooting stars
and let their fizzing fire sparks
be our answer.
Let the shooting stars guide us home.
where we’ll find,
we weren’t and aren’t alone, this time.