Welcome Home.

I see him walk the winter worn streets. Nameless he blends amongst those that walk along and those that walk by.

He looks for the smiles and the welcoming arms. But here, within the generalization, in a home far from home, they are hard to find.

He wants to teach and inspire. But so do the others, others whose desires are resembling or even stronger then his. They sing and dance just as he does. They are even more outrageous then him.

He yearns for a news day’s challenge; a test, a quota. Things he despised until last year. But today is a continuation from yesterday and tomorrow a continuation from today.

He misses being needed as an individual; being appreciated for his caring deeds.

Was it the shining sun that gave him a name?
Was it open minded friends that made him feel heard?
Was it widened space that set him free?

The past is not coming back and that only makes the night more quiet and uneventful.
So he aimlessly continues to walk. The cold winds are new to him. Begrudgingly he looks right and left, high and low, for a place to land.

He disappears down the street. I know, shortly he will come to a stop and realize that the street light can shine directly on him. He will learn even in black one can choose a lighter or darker shade. Compliments don’t always must be received. They are better when given. He will create his own welcoming arms and embrace others.

We all want to be heard. But some times we also must listen.
If not for life, at least for our next journey.