When you start hearing every song that refers to home,
go as close as you can get to the nest.
But remember, there is no perfect return,
no architecture or forest under whose limbs
you will be ideally at rest.
Search, though, and find salvation in the
impossible Home, while building and 
settling and seeping into the soil.
You will be pollution, yes, and you
will see sickness, death, 
and there will be those who will call you
Cause; disregard effects that alienate,
and awkwardly laugh when the
moment is right.
Contort, yes, and retort. 
Relax, yes, and release.
Evaluation will get you to A,
but z is only within reach
with a ladder and friendly hands.
See you way to the threshold 
of the doors you inhabit
and say liminality without
the astringent mossy tongue.
Dare is a word you wore out
alongside risk, let them swim 
back to the pages where they
came out of the ooze.
While you pull up tubers
and sidle in next to your 
favorite fallen tree,
let home come back,
come forth,
come where you are.

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