Sun soaked revelations
on a patio deck.
I had long forgotten
the simple joys
Of returning to origin.
In its bosom,
the well worn comfort
Of familiarity,
combined with the
clear remembrance
Of lake breeze air.
Every milestone,
And accomplishment,
All seen by the unending tide
Of water in motion.
From the eyes of my window:
the first breath of my brother
and the last sight of my cousin.
The first taste of a woman
and my last meeting with her.
All trials,
Tribulations,
And friendships
Have come, gone
and began again
here.
Lonely winter nights,
The ferocity of the wind off the beach
almost too much to bear.
Nowhere to go,
Except the solace of a guitar,
You taught yourself well back then.
My first car,
Driving around in circles,
a “summer town” deserted in the winter,
And a father
Eager to pass this rite to his son.
Later,
Cracks in a marriage,
like holes in a wall,
and a lonely teenager hoping for the best.
Ultimately,
reconciliation.
My first taste of addiction.
Parents out of town,
I wanted to be the “cool kid”.
A party remembered,
The stench of cigarettes,
Never
Again
Forgotten.
All within these walls.
Outside,
Clear hot air.
I lay back
And gaze deeply
Into the trunk,
of the tree,
I have seen all
My life.
My great aunt used to tell me
that on the branches,
Of this particular tree
Sits a wise old owl.
He will watch over you
During this life.
To a child
An owl shaped branch,
Can give breath quite easily.
Yet I never truly understood
Her message.
Now
That branch is long since gone,
As is she.
And at times when I need her wisdom
Most
I remember the owl.
Today it is clear to me.
Just as the roots
Of a tree anchor
mighty oak,
My home
Anchors me.
I lay back
In my chair.
Feet up,
exhalation.
I am home,
Rooted once again.
Copyright (c)           David DeSantis