Homecoming

Red cardinals mixing with blue skies becoming purples of different hues, the deepest of those, your skin.

-That’s home to me.

Starlight yellows blending with midnight blacks that mesh, and fade, and bleed nebulas forever until they collide into greens. Like the roots of your hair.

-That’s home for me.

Blue like the sea, meeting the orange of a morning sun, creating brown in my imagination. Like the brown of your eyes.

-That’s home to me.

White moonlight backdropping a deep red fire. Reminding me of the delight I feel when I see a Roseate Spoonbill. Like the pink of your tongue.

-That’s home for me.

Brown dried soil combining with the pink of fossils past creating a pastel red. Like the red of your heart.

-That’s home to me.

Purple smoke signal plants laying in a field of their own green leaves. Gently mingling into a brief yet remarkable blue (their stem). Like the blue of the veins running through your wrists.

-That’s home for me.

Green Mediterranean forest colliding with a red Sahara Desert, causing bursts of yellow sand. Like the palm of your soft hands.

-That’s home to me.

Now, I breathe you in.

All your earthly colors.

With each breath the colors swirl in my mind.

Connecting and reconnecting me with home.

As I experience this planet. This home.

I experience you.

You are home to me.

You are home for me.