There are shifts. There are new spaces that feel important, sensations that soothe my frazzled synapses, textures that never before felt like my own. There are sounds-- birds that screech before a storm, the gentle hum of the washing machine-- that are part of the rhythm here.
You are home,
You are home,
You are home,
They say.
And little by little,
day by day,
I start to believe them