We wave goodbye
to the little white cottage
and its pine-scented deck;
the trees
the mountains
all the nature that held our hearts for two days.
Home again, home again
jiggedy-jig
At first it’s okay
I have a new ritual just waiting to begin
nightly poetry promises
peace
But the two lane highway
dashes into four lanes
before I’ve even caught up on work
When I finally look up from laptop screen
we’re in the throes of busyland once more.
My heart drops just a little
I don’t want to go back
back to the way things were.
The thrashing and threshing of modern-day
life
But the gloom doesn’t even have a chance to soak into heart soil before
Hope leaps to rescue me
I don’t have to go back
I can go forward.
There is no going back
if each moment is a new chapter
–a new page, or paragraph,
or at the very least, a new sentence.
So I stand up courageously
and choose this new chapter to be full of
slower moments
longer hugs
less pressure
scripture strength
falling stars
tree shadows
work-play
temple refuge
and poetry
always poetry.
We make it home with three pizzas
and four little draw-string bags–
a worry stone for each child
from our last stop–the rock stop.
Lottie jumps into the car with me
whimpering and wagging her tail.
Maylie is next to find me with a giant hug
and a “I missed you so much.”
The boys don’t know yet know of our arrival
so Maylie alerts them and Cooper comes
barreling down the stairs with a hug ten times the size
of his little body.
“I missed you so much!” he says while he squeezes.
Next is Tate with a polite hug.
“Did you miss me?” I ask, but I already know the answer.
“Um, I don’t know,” he says with a grin.
Easton is asleep–he’s had a rough day.
But oh, they’ve all grown at least 5 inches in two days
and oh, it’s so good to be home.
