three hundred and sixty five days

The Token

Can it be, this day has come.

My life has been packed above eighteen wheels.

We pull away from that life,

Only to pull into a new one.

We leave before those eighteen wheels,

Driving far away from that place I love.

It's shrinking, almost pocket sized,

Like a token to place in my heart forever.

I look back, only thinking of what's ahead.

We reach the mountains.

Winding through the pass,

Those thoughts seem to disappear.

Melting away with the snow.

I am the youngest, sitting in the back seat,

To experience life slightly after the others.

We approach desert country.

All of the snow has melted.

All my thoughts have dried up with my tears.

The desert was silent, haunting almost.

Red sand, contrasting blue skies.

The clouds billowed like thought bubbles,

Only empty.

There was nothing to say.

I was at peace,

The in-between.

We approach our destination,

The peace went away.

My thoughts were captured again,

Like light domes the city lights.

Where am I?

I can't tell you through any reference but a map.

You can argue though,

Once the eighteen wheeler arrives with all our belongings,

I can call it home.

But home comes with time,

And life comes with journey.

~ Leah

It has been one year ago today that we moved. As each of us say...in a way it doesn't seem like a year has past and yet it seems like a lot longer. Leah wrote this poem shortly after we moved for an assignment in her new english class. Just recently she read it at a poetry reading contest. I believe, sharing it here is a good way to mark our one year journey.