The way home......

I carry a small white stone in my pocket, most of the time...

It reminds me that there is a way home...

Like Hansel and Gretel....

Home seems a long way away....

I wonder if I have ever been there...

I play with my stone and feel its shiny, marbled whiteness...

I hold it in my pocket when I'm anxious...

Sometimes I long for home with a longing that is beyond words...

Almost beyond feelings...

I used to draw a house with a chimney and the lights on and an open door, at the top of an endless cliff... with a swing in the tree outside...

I drew the picture over and over again...

I don't draw it any more....

I don't know where home is, but somehow don't think it it out there somewhere...

Somehow I need to find the home in the silence of my heart and soul...

Maybe I won't be so restless then...

That would be nice..........................

I carry my home finding stone.... with the tiniest hope that I will find my way someday.