*a Home Poem by Deva De Silva

Hours of roaming aimlessly
Through streets deserted and mute
Sorrows piercing my ears
Tears flowing in pitiful streaks
Mutilated and displaced by wind
Drying in tribute, frozen on cheeks
A feeling of liberation it beckoned

As the sky grew gold and the day turned old
Warm feet turned cold, heart ceased being bold
Head held high nestled lower and lower,
Disappearing into the neck.
Along with the spring in my step

Yet, the old spirit sang young
With each tired stride taken
Towards ones I cherished,
A sense of tenderness soared within

Inhaling burning air on a cold January night
Exhaling a frosty manner smoldering inside
I summoned up my courage
To turn back and gait
To where they awaited
For my return

My sanity returning in glee
Defying all doubts timid
Blistered feet scurried
Towards an asylum
That I call my home