Of getting lost and finding home

Deep sadness down and in between.
Homeless and homesick at the same time.
Restless and in the need of a bed to call mine.

A wanderer between the worlds.
With memories of old times,
from relations long ago
and a place called home.

Loosing everything by letting go,
and still an old life in boxes.
Stored for another life, yet never seems to come.

Confusion as the daily order,
the compass of weird symbols only.
It's like night in daytime
and to wander in a sleep.

I'm lost

Living under roofs of others
hearing voices from the past.
"Don't take space!"

Haunted by the echos
I do the work, be nice and gentle,
bring beauty in their home.

I'm tired - of giving myself away.

Exhausted I find my face in the mirror of sadness. Realizing
it's only me, who want to pay to live,
and at the end: not dare to be.

Without the blurry glasses I begin to see,
how truly friendly people here can be

I see their hands like midwifes reaching out to me.

Yet still I'm wearing the clothes of a beggar,
the old and rotten travel boots.
Hidden behind the mask of my small me.

But my soul sees land arising

To touch the ground my foot reaches out.
Through cold waters it has to go,
to find a land of sand below.
.
Soft and loving she is here,
yet with some roughness covered.
Carrying her brittle secrets of dark hard rocks.
Covered within a soft and virgin bed of white.
Duality and alchemy down in her belly near the sea.

It is the land of Birch I found.
In this goddess I find my home!
And helping hands to welcome me.

A woman to belong!

Slowly reaching ground next to this salty waters,
I mirrored deep myself.
Small steps to find my prayers answered,
and the wanderer a shelter