It’s a long, long journey
to arrive
at a place
that can be called home.

First the departure
the tears
and the tearing away
from that place
and all that it holds
first known by that name.

Home.
a place
a feeling
a way of being
warm, welcoming, forgiving
a memory
a hope
a dream
realised
or shattered.

First home
determined genetically
a forming experience
ranging from
hostile to friendly
shaping
expectations
expressions
constellations
boundaries
behaviours
perspectives
perceptions
projections
of being.

From there, the first place
known
a launching
onto a journey
unkown
discovering
deconstructing
redefining
searching
shaping
always until
it is recognised
afresh
home.

My journey
defined by miles of distance
many years spent longing
for the smells
the sounds
the vistas
of a land on another continent.

My head and my heart
disconnected
too much figuring out
too much discontentment
thinking they needed
the African sun
the language and culture
of my history
to determine my future.

And that the inheritance
of a home
too cold
too harsh
too lonely
too much thinking
lost in labyrinths of the mind
whilst the heart beats faithfully
patiently weeping
and waiting
to be heard.

Home now
revolutionised
by slow evolution
a new mindset
not set in its ways
but led by the heart
synchronized
with breathe
and movement
and being,
fuelled by the
fire of passion
that rises from
my belly.

Home now
not geographically
only
but by connection
and contentment
peace and freedom
in the moment.

A traveller through
space and time
in wordlessness
connected
to what lies
within and beyong
our substance
and situation
a matrix of knowing
and being
secure and sublime.