For as long as I can remember, never have i experienced the gratification of knowing what Home felt like.

No sense of safety or belonging.

Family wasn’t solid, more like every man for themselves.

A constant war raging within everyone.

Like the never ending story,

the nothingnes was consuming us all.

Like Ferngully our forest ripped from the ground,

I had to get away as fast as i could.

I guess the soil was loose and my roots weren’t

meant for that forest bed.

Wondering and wondering, longing and yearning.

picked up new leaves of all colors, and grew thick bark.

I made the best of every season,

some easier than others.

I’ve had a few woodpeckers, lumberjacks and termites.

Almost gave in to the dead of winter.

They say you can’t grow and bloom without a little bit of rain.

As soon as the snow melted, the brightest of green leaves filled my bare Branches.

I felt stronger, then along came the hands of nurture,

every thumb greener than the last.

My roots although they are shallow and can’t reach earths core,

I finally unerstood my growth and ignorance.

Home was the destination, I couldnt have found it without the journey.

My roots may be knotted and sticking up out the ground.

My roots may be weathered through time.

My roots are shallow, but they are finally at Home.