I’m Coming Home

The plane lands at 6 am

doors open

a whiff of hot humidity

penetrates the cabin

I walk down the stairs

into the dusty mist

leaving behind all the despair,

the anxiety trapped in fifty square miles

the noise that invaded my peace

the sick man I’d become.

I can barely see 50 yards

in front of me

but I’ve started to feel again.

The cold had arrested all paths

that led to my heart.

The bridges to my soul

becoming frozen cul-de-sacs.

It’s like the heat, dust and void

have thawed the ice

surrounding my heart

my peace has returned.

I hear myself singing:

“Hey you,

Open your heart,

I’m coming home.”

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