Monday, July 9, 2007

You’re My Home

You once told me that I was your home,

and I wrote it down so that I would never forget.

I clung to that wrinkled piece of paper by mistake,

like it was an extension of your heart.

But then I learned that paper can never wrap its arms around you,

or hold your hand in a crowd,

or dance with you on an empty dance floor.

I thought it could, but that was my mistake.

So now, when I’m not busying myself with missing what was good,

I remember what it really feels like.

I’m more at home all by myself.

1 comment:

  1. Amazing blog. RIP Wayne Dyer. He was an amazing man with truly amazing stories. And now others are carrying same message. I found the real meaning and origin of Dyer's scurvy elephant story, about his honest and heartfelt view of his life's struggle. Good for inspiration and books. The stuff that dreams are made of. It brought tears to my eyes. This will bring a major shift in awareness, too.