Belonging

I never thought

the moment would come

"Oh shit" I said

inside my head

as my heart grew from grinch to grin

and water swelled

in my eyes.

I squeezed the steering wheel

as I felt the white pines

watching me

and the juniper listening,

celebrating

with frosty bitter blue fruit

jewels on her boughs

and the white birches reach, drinking

in the January sun while it lasts

as the bald eagles cavort

and the jagged mountain sides pour

with thick still ice

While I drove down

interstate 84

West

with my children in the car

and the smell of this particular place

and time

in my nose,

Home

landed in me.

I'm here.

This land is me. My body

responds now

to it's changing light

the curvy hipped roads

and gazelle winter trees

The decent of Autumn

and revelation of summer

Her greenery, her cycles

my teacher.

I never thought

the moment would come

when Connecticut called me

home

and I would accept.

Yet in the time it took

for the next snowflake

to melt on the hood

of my red Saturn

(which is terrible in snow)

the spirit of this land

thawed my icy heart

as my mind sped

a film in my head

and showed me visions

of all the plants I've come to know

and trees I've wept upon

and rivers carrying my prayers

roots and nuts that are now

my hair, my skin

the hills who hold my walk

the rocks who tell my story

and the collective of

that movie

surrounded by the people keeping

me loved.

"Oh shit"

I thought

"It's here?

Not Tennessee? Or Virginia? Or

Asheville North Carolina? Costa Rica?"

No

She says

at least not right now.

You are here

with me

you are here

come in.