I Am My Home

I touch the first page as I wait.
Thus I am not waiting or weighted by anticipation.
I am thrall no more.
I can call but don’t.
I could fall but won’t.
I’m turning and spinning…
spiraling and winning…
dialed in to thrilling…
No marbles spilling…
My toys are electronic and musical.
My ploys are exceptions to protocols,
and administered to self to keep me in check.
What’s next?
I don’t stress the exit— I’ll catch the next pitch…
Strike or not… Ball ‘til I fall… out.
Walk ‘til there’s no spatial baseness between me and home.
I observe the shadow of a cloud on a mountainside…
Moving like notes across scales… tight tones.
Verdant meadow with no Gapeto…
I am my home.

Daiikiru Maximillion


2 thoughts on “I Am My Home

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