Returning Home

I am wondering if you know that feeling you get
when you walk into a party and see a group of people....
well friends actually,
that you have not seen in a long time.

You catch the odd sideways glance and low murmurs from around the room
that bring about a pang of regret
but
generally you are anxious to pick up where you left off.

With some of the people in the room you are amazed at how quickly you reconnect.
They walk up and start talking to you,
asking questions,
sharing stories
and life goes on,
moves forward.

But with others you experience glimmerings of guilt given that you haven't phoned or connected with them in any way,
to see how they are doing,
how life has treated them,
basically those things that we do to show people that we care.

You know that you cannot interrupt existing conversations to describe
those walks on the beach,
when the mist floated lazily above the sand
creating a haze of perfection
that painted a lighthouse in the distance
and a rock that seemingly portrayed the image of a man.

It is not always easy to explain that you needed time to collect
washed up sea urchins,
and sea glass,
pretty rocks and partially broken shells.

I mean the more you think about it,
the more you realize that while you were breathing in all those rich encounters of sea air,
dinners with friends,
walks on the beach,
swims in the lake,

that they too were most likely immersed in their own discovery
of a summer well spent
perhaps with new friends,
as well as some of the old....
and that like you
they are possibly struggling to capture those experiences in such a way
that they don't
disappear with the changing of seasons,
or the movement of time.

No, the thing is
you realize that
you may need to accept that your sighting of rocks within a rock
held for you
a special meaning at the time
that does not necessarily require appreciation or understanding by others.

So, you look around the room and take in the people,
the surroundings,
and recognize,
that being home and back to what once was
is kind of nice.

You decide that you can reveal some of what you experienced,
slowly over time,
but it will take time.

No, being home, is not bad at all.
You just need to open your eyes and search for what you did not see before.
The novelty that may have always been hidden in the presumed staleness
is all about perception.


Yes, I am glad to be back.