Even when
home is not exactly
the thing
for which we hope,
it is a
place of consolation,
though its
comforts be comprised
mostly of
old wounds
from which
we gained our limp.
Years may
have passed;
journey
still has a vague familiarity;
its
shortening rewinds the projector,
returning
us to a child’s cameo role,
subject
to whatever parenting came
from the
garden of our adolescence.
Going
back by the path on which we left,
straining
for individuality with every breath,
seeking
differentiation from all genetics,
can be
painful, breathtaking.
There is
another road;
one with
neither nostalgic Photo-Shopping,
nor
anesthetic memory-wipe.
G2
is the highway’s name;
Gratitude
for all that has shaped us
as
creatures of both habit and hope;
Grace for
the ways we learned,
letting
ourselves be unshaped, reshaped.
This the way
that allows new baggage,
giving
Homeland Security new meaning
as
wrinkled, misshapen garments
from our
past are Goodwilled,
and
repurposed to a safe place;
the
wardrobe of now
is
modeled with genuine humility.
© 2013
Todd Jenkins
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