30 steps, mostly in circles,
standing still, lacking stillness,
with a shaking hand and a running wound of eyes
that cannot sight further than a shadow, its back bent,
ignorant of the rest that blessed homes give,
and my lips still unaware
of how it feels to be kissed without reduction,
be kissed without reduction,
30 steps, mostly in circles, mainly in longing
that remains unfulfilled.
And in the tradition of calling things as they are,
I call my love as suffering,
and my lack of love as suffering.
30 steps, mostly in circles,
a fool playing a role at court,
offering blessing, unable to be blessed.
30 steps, mostly in circles,
my feet are sore, my hands are not soft,
and I long for an eternal blessing,
like walking barefoot on soft, wet grass
with your hands in mine.
I will whisper: you are so loved.
I will whisper: you are home.
Eternal blessing that blesses.
30 steps.
Home is missed.
Home is absent