Sleeping At Last
Homesick
You spend your whole life
Just to remember the sound
When the world was brighter
Before we learned to dim it down

Call it survival
Call it the freedom of wills;
Where breath is borrowed
Our compass needle stands still

Our resignation only comes on beaten paths

When the world was flat
We dreamt of its edges…

If love’s elastic, then were we born to test its reach?
Is it buried treasure
Or just a single puzzle piece?

It’s poison ivy
Beneath our brave and trusting feet…
But all revelations come to us in recovery

Cry wolf, cry mercy
Cry the name of the one you were raised to believe;
Cry hard, cry yourself to sleep, cry a storm of tears
If it helps you breathe
If it helps you
If it helps you breathe