Reaching Home

By Marcella Leff

I climbed hills where silence meets the skies 

and saw stars like lanterns in disguise. 

The wind grew still; clouds began to rise, 

revealing gates no mortal tongue lies. 

A golden hush fell when a light broke through

and it might be a song my soul cries 

.

The trees were flamed but none has yet burned, 

Each leaf is a truth the wind had learned. 

No shadow fell and no branches turned, 

just holy light that all roots had yearned. 

A voice sang out when peace hung through the air, 

It was to name the home I once spurned

I saw my name stitched in woven thread.

It’s not carved in stone but softly said. 

My past was shown as warm, not with dread, 

its stories sung and not left for dead. 

A tear fell softly with grace and light

and my space was a flame that had spread

The river sang with a tired tongue, 

It’s old now but its music young. 

It knew the hymns that the stars had sung, 

and bore the souls once too early sprung 

A bridge opened truths that my soul knew-

the path I walked alone and unsung.

By Marcella Leff