Until I come home.

I will start at every door-knock
Feel my stomach drop with each child
Who wanders by with her hand so tiny
In mother or father's grasp
Until I come home.
I will hold my breath when any phone rings
Any email releases that chord of sound
Stand with my hand in my pockets
Looking out at the dimming clouds
When families lay their blankets
On green public grounds
Until I come home.
I will trample the land with my footfalls
Searching for something that is not there
And keep expecting to find it
Under every snowfall
Until I come home.
I will know the world of Ulysses
And of Turin, Tristan, Beowulf and Sigurd
And will harden myself to the world
For survival,
Yet will also trap within all the life
I used to have, to save as much as
I possibly can
And yet lose it as my deeds grow longer
And my body perhaps stronger
But my mind descending near to madness;
I will walk amongst the dead and the tragic
Upon magical footstones
Never leaving the path for fear
That I will never find my way back
Unaware the stones themselves
Are vanishing in my tracks,
Until I come home.