The Wanderer
If I wander too far, leave a light in the window.
Let it burn and burn until I return
upon the wing of puffins.
I’ll come riding, on a squall of cherry blossoms.
I’ll come visit you, grandfather, with a reed basket stuffed with nuts
and pine boughs to decorate your home.
The squirrel who lives in your attic will chirp and chatter.
The deer will scatter and the bear will groan.
But you, dear grandfather, can you sing me home?
I miss your song, fiddled over the drum beat of tides.
I miss you stories, whispered between the cracked voice of hearth fire.
Though far I’ve been, to foggy moors and crumbled castles,
I miss the mysteries of home.
I sent you a letter, by humpback. Have you gotten it?
If I wander to far, leave the light in the window.
Through the winter fog and sheets of rain.
I will find my way home again.
Listen for the flutter of wings.
