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Home

My Home,

enchanted forest

of roses, recalls me

into its heart;

the earth

opens up in opulence

trees swing and sing

in the wind’s wings.

Fragrance

of the forest fuses

with birds’

ballad,

caresses my soul,

soothes my mind

like radiant stars,

repelling all cares.

Nothing lacked,

yet I forsook the forest,

search for fertile soils

in distant lands,

 tried my hands

 at multiple things .

Dream lost in dreams,

I’ve returned to the forest.

Different

forest:  starless sky,

 beguiling beauty

and stillness lost.

A forest fleeced

 out of radiance

by vultures, melody

of its birds discordant.

My forest,

your forest,

our forest,

juxtaposes

beside vanity’s vase

engraved with symbols

and silky garments

embellished by pride’s embroidery.

I dine with vultures

in eagle’s plumage,

prey on the poor

and destitute.

This is my legacy,

logo, and motto,

as the waters heave

around me.

Surge of compassion

like lightening’s speed

nudges me into memory’s lane

and reminds me

we’re of the same forest

in which white liquids

from trees morph

into humans.

I’ve sailed on seas

of error, landed

on fresh dreams.

Dream’s  wave

entangles

in love’s pavilion,

 beacons me

to celebrate

sung and unsung

ancestry of achievers

lost in mountains

of gloom.

Their triumphs,

a melody

of rain falling

on leaves.

We all live

in the forest

where prospects

 of gold dance

on leaves,

and repeated  stories

of hope painted

on hopeful lips.

I discard what vanity nourishes,

in spirit of friendship comingle

with all, to transform the forest

into a glorious home:

my home

your home

our home

of enchanted forest.

Tommy Somah