Behind my eyes
Some things others might notice...
Might mistake me for being dismissive.
Settled in my chest above my stomach and behind my heart,
A heat of sorts which drives my nerve,
Keeps me alert.
Sometimes it wells up
But I'm not sad.
I'm not what you think.
I'm an arrow, nocked with aim.
See me through the thickets of brush, from the hill where you hide.
And you sneak out late and go further than the night before. Yes, I shine on.
And those journeys you had through time and countries. You wondered about me. Me, here just the same.
Out there you know and you kick all the same. You kick and kick.
Rain comes, and false promises, false gods, and wells without water telling you about hope and vindication.
Further out you stride.
Where, one day, a light shines where you can see, see your knuckles, bloody. You wash your hands.
And then, alas, you look up. And you see me still here, shining, leading you home. Your home, ordained with expectation.
And after all these years, you finally see me, yourself calling out to the person you tried to be.
Welcome.
