A Poem a Day (419): Homeward

 

Yesterday’s poem was about a spider and all his complex, beautiful creations, which are so delicate but strangely strong, and sometimes short-lasting. Today’s poem continues with the theme of home and what it means. It’s a very small word, but with a huge meaning, and that meaning is as individual as we are. What is home to you may be very different from the next person. Sometimes we find a place that feels like home and sometimes we’re forever looking. Maybe our very first home is still the one.

 

 

Homeward

 

Homeward bound,

whatever home means to us,

so unique, a shell invisible

we carry on our backs

from place to place.

 

The house we grew up in,

newly born & impressioned

by intangible walls,

sparkling voices of family,

strands we hold on to.

 

Red flecked wallpaper,

flour-dusted kitchen tops

and a bear on a white crib,

where we still drift

to sleep sometimes.

 

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, March 29, 2021

 

 

 

 

A Poem a Day (418): Language woven

 

 

Language woven

 

Silk-thread gossamer,

fishnet webbing, a pattern

in play; pure language

unspoken but sketched

out in woven chords.

The artist sits alone

in a corner, full-dusted,

surveying his domain.

He knits lines, threads

flowing, the whole unseen

until the very last piece

connects. Dew catches;

diamond glints suspended

drip life into our hands.

Night sets it all glittering;

fine stars in our backyard,

flicker in moonlight’s eyes,

adrift upon the wind.

 

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, March 28, 2021

 

 

 

 

 

A Poem a Day (417): The giants’ pathway

 

 

The giants’ pathway

 

A car speeds the giants’ pathway,

limbs splayed up in a dome cradle.

 

In motion backwards we rewind

a reel of pictures, clicking forth,

 

and hang our clothes on branches,

all the possessions we’ve outlived.

 

Our gold leaves cleanse in the wind,

the mind blazing with colour.

 

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, March 26, 2021