Always Here in Heart
I am not at home in my place,
yet transplanted by choice.
Such is what the heart will do
to be fulfilled. And it is.
She will always be my muse; has been
since our eyes first met. Many times
the words I write have been
taken from the joy she brings.
I see the birds, am inspired
by cedar and oak, as I walk
along magnificent bluffs, paddle
on muddy rivers and streams.
But they are not the maples
I have known all my life.
Not the blue waters of great lakes,
nor mighty falls with their mist.
Yet happiness is mine, by choice.
One I would repeat again
and again. A choice made clear
when I was there and she was here.
The prompt from Gina for Poetics: your poetic hum asks about your life when you are not writing. How does it influence your writing? I moved from Western New York to mid-Missouri nearly seven years ago to be with someone special, and she is now my wife. I bought a house in October 2013, but it has only just occurred to me that, as much as I miss New York, I do consider Missouri my home.
Image: Autumn at Ha Ha Tonka State Park, Missouri