“That Which Was Home”

At first glance, it all becomes familiar

I’m fixated and observant, intentional, as if not to make a sudden sound

Breathing in its reminding fragrance, hoping to fully embrace the beauty of this holy ground 

My stillness is intentional, but also wholly out of respect 

sensing that which has always been around me, in this moment, that I’ve now met

My eyes are captured by the light, they never seem to overreach, 

arrayed like the perfect dance floor, with the girl I’m suppose to meet 

If perfection were a painting, then this is where it all began

A star twinkles in the morning, one big wedding in the sky, 

The concept of family has suddenly become the most evident plan

My eyes! Behold a miracle, creativity has become a statue and at surprise it doesn’t boast

Stillness leads to confidence in its ability to create tranquility, and to this I make a pleasant toast

My ears! Behold a whisper, it's not loud but the octave is very high,

salt and honey the perfect mixture through my veins

As they sing and travel through the dusty places, I begin to sigh 

Poets both old and new have tried to capture what is now my very sight,

They have detailed with great imagination and precision things I’ve known as a boy,

I believed it was my right

At first glance, it all becomes familiar 

My mind is obedient and doesn’t roam

I love the salt and honey mixture

For that was which was called my home 

- Tyron Herring