When I say I want to go home

I want to go home like
picking berries off the bush
and hearing the ocean in my mouth
hearing the planting of gardens
in the crease of my hands
hearing the shade of the tree
on my sundrunk skin

I want to go home like
running in fields with no shoes
like drinking coconut from the gourd
and eating mango off the tree
And the fiyah
oh da fiyah burns a path
through the mystery in our chests

I want to go home like no locks
on doors, no door bells,
maybe no doors at all We sing
as we approach any home
to prepare them for our arrival
and are welcomed with drink and food and games
where there are no borders in our spirit
just the flow of life in our names

Home, where no one SAYS i love you,
because it is never a question
to be answered
And our chests are mountains and rivers
instead of hollowed out caves

Home, where life is where the family is
where there are no separate buildings that fragment the being
into proper and professional
where we are eternally
as we are in any moment whether planting or hunting
or loafin in the field or the river

Home, where our hair
and the leaves
and the grass
and the antennae are one
where the feet root deep into the soil
to drink from the water below

where the hands hold ALL
where the senses are awake within

Home, where the mighty laugh
of the newborn graces the ear of the elder
as she leaves her encasing behind
to rejoin the river and tree of life
that courses through our veins and the wind races
sharing
in their joy and release

Leaves pumping through
the wild hair of children
as they chase their brethren
lions and lambs
Goat and gallo
butterfly and moth
The wind the river
the sand the sea

Everything runs and swims
as if it is flying

in our veins in our step

Even the blood
in our veins
Even the pep
In our step
Even the grins
above our chins

All free flowing

All flowing

All free

All all
that they
can be

you know
home.

By Melissa Ferrer (&)