And isn't alright
To be adrift
To ache with longing
To fear incompletion
For isn't it
The final resting place Your mother promises
The calling on of Your mother's own voice
The ocean of Your mother's arms
Sure, and aren't we
Ever
Falling into belonging
Again
Into
Homecoming
After
Every parting.
Ah, my love
Isn't it alright.
