Homeless Feeling
A poem
Yes I was born into a family,
People spoke fixed as to what they see,
No home is what’s felt inside of me,
It’s hard to imagine a desired home clearly,
Home is a feeling not a tangible thing,
Physical things won’t bring me the feeling,
It’s been repeated over and over,
Burned into my tissue all for me to render,
The home will appear when the heart is accepted,
Nurtured, loved and without rejection,
For the outer matches the states of the inner,
This insight helps to see things clearer,
For the sake of a balanced mind,
I feel into my heart one day at a time,
Clearing the clutter of the harsh past,
Will be soon embodied; a joy that lasts,
One day a home I feel proud of,
Full of reflections of a beautiful love,
A space I feel safe to fully embrace,
Followed the bread crumbs back to this space,
Where the feeling of safety is many of the beauties,
Possibilities cultivate with much ease,
I wonder if this is a tangible vision,
Or just a projected inner reflection
