To be a stranger in your own land
An unfamiliar face in your own mirror
To stumble in your own footsteps
And strain to squeeze into the skin you thought was yours
To be lost but to not even realise it because you know not even where you are supposed to be
To see your home town with fresh eyes each time you return
To recognise that the masks we all wear are fleeting & temporal and in time will be cast aside anyway
To make a new path that circumvents the toils you would otherwise have set before yourself
& to clothe yourself only in the body of your truth that is more than skin deep.
To be only where you are in each moment and call that your home free of any notion of “should” or “oughts”
To belong only in the here and now (for now + here = nowhere)
To be only what you are in each moment but to be it fully and without reserve and
To be free of the burden of expectation
And clear of the limitations which we oppose upon ourselves.
I am without home, I am without face, I am without name.
But I am.