Five years ago a turbulent wind took me to Wisconsin
to sort and re-evaluate.
That same wind has brought me home again.
I am in Nashville.
The place I left my native state for
all those years ago . . . One music city for another.
My father lives here.
"There is always a place for you at the table," he says.
Disgruntled with my life's work.
Rediscovering old friends and sentiments lost.
Feeling a day late and a dollar short,
but cherishing every new step.
There is an indescribable sense of comfort and joy
in reconnection, coupled with
a mangled heart and head.
Reflection.
Do you remember this, do you remember that?
First love. First mentor. First inspiration.
How do you repair what is lost,
open up when there is so much pain?
The tears come quick these days.
Content in growing a friendship and learning more,
I laugh . . . I stay busy.
Progression occurs slowly.
I am back here again.
Different than before, stronger.
Familiar, yet new. Excited.
Nashville is my respite,
opening it's arms wide,
allowing for starts and stops.
Time to flourish.
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