You came home,
long hair billowing in the spring winds,
sunlight shining through the open door as the sea of your mother’s tears finally parted and peace returned to her pillow.
She lived another lifetime in the time you were gone,
her eyes were weary but her arms were welcoming,
and you fit so neatly inside her embrace,
because it was your home.
Your soul is scarred but you don’t let her see,
breaking bread while the sun sets,
and she stares with awe filled eyes,
because her heart was gone,
three days of hell,
endured by a pure woman,
who had felt more pain than she had ever caused,
but you came home,
and now her heart is where it belongs.