Welcome Home

I want to throw a welcome home party for my joy.

I want to roll out the red carpet for every slice of sunshine cutting through the clouds.

I want to sing about first bites of toast and the way coffee cups warm my palms.

I want to carve the sound of my child’s laugh into my skin.

I want to frame the nights I stayed up too late friend-drunk and laughing.

I want to write odes to barefoot walks and warm cement and wet grass.

I want to stand in the rain with a boombox and serenade every moment a student smiles.

I want to hold hands with the warmth from my bed.

I want to build a shrine to every time I walk through my front door and feel safe.

I want to tell my anxiety she can let her warning lights run out of batteries because I am safe and whole and ready to see the stars.

Can you feel the confetti falling?

Welcome home.