Creating Safety out of Nothing

I've never experienced the luxury

Of safety being a place

Of home being a home

I get frustrated

I feel sorrow because I don't know what the word means.

"Safety."

"Security."

I think it is knowing you belong.

That you can spread out,

Limbs, intentions, goals, dreams, intentions,

and every particle of your being is welcome to come back again.

I think is it freedom,

That warmth in your lower chest when you have nowhere else to be because

there is nowhere else you want to be.

It is, freedom, not the ability to run, but the desire not to.

"Home."

I think home is when you feel comfortable

And can be recreated anywhere you go

I think safety is unique in that it is acceptance, and replicable for all the same reasons.

I find safety in a warm drink.

Indoors in the Winter Time.

In living separately in a shared space.

Sometimes I find safety in not knowing what's next,

Sometimes the safety is that I need to know.

I find safety in things mysterious yet predictable,

Always shifting but never absent,

Like the ocean.

I find safety both in new experiences and in old ones.

I have found safety in many places. I can find safety anywhere.

Safety in the call of a bird, safety in the flame of a candle,

in the position of my legs, safety in the captured outline of a present moment.

I wish to create safety out of broken bits and pieces that meld to a full-fledged whole.

I wish to create safety as much as possible.

Without safety, I cannot become grounded.

Without safety, I cannot confidently surge forward.

I wish to create safety as much as possible.