reaching out
by reaching back
as the ghosts of my youth
attempt to influence my daily life –
longing to embrace some semblance of tradition
after having turned my back on religion and country
looking to family ties
finding only shredded and tattered strings
blowing in the breeze of discontent –
is there truly no way home
can it never be the same
……would I choose that if it were possible
…..no –
by the dimmest of lights
I fumble in the darkness
looking to recreate the wheel
in a land filled with circles –