Treatise Poem by Michael Joseph Ferguson

home,
a tribal remedy
beat
stone
whistle
beat

beat
stone
whistle
beat

home,
ancient bodyguard
rampart
against the pain
of repetitive thoughts

home,
a vast accompanying stranger
old friend, sure-footed

home,
atop the occasional rooftop
triumphant, adolescent
wonder

home,
a forest peering into
a glassy lake
somewhere

listening to
quiet star music

home,
a mild foot on
pine needles
cascading
against skin
in millions
of pointed
affirmations

home,
a word
like 'sky'
or 'tranquility'
or 'touch'

home,
ever-expanding
concentric rings
of all that
has now
become

familiar