Til I Return Home

These plastic, shrink-wrapped thighs and painted faces.
These cubicles and cookie-cutter places.
They suck me.
They drain me.
With their fluorescent blaring lights.
My soul screams.
It begins to take notice.
It tightens, it shakes, it tingles.
This is not it.
So much energy to bring my presence.
To strengthen
To stand strong.
To know myself.
To love myself.
And stay rooted
To the Earth from which I came.
Which supports me, which grounds me
Which calls me, my name.
Remember who you are.
Be in it.
Own it.
Do not shrink your voice, your message, your song.
But that longing for the place I belong
It’s there, it’s real, it won’t be too long.
Til I return home.