This must be the place I’m supposed to be
When I am working at home
All I can think of is being outside.
When I am frolicking outside
All I can think of is returning home.
When I sit down to write
I think only of my streaming “delights”.
When I listen to my songs
I yearn so much for silence.
Guess I am
Fumbling
Stumbling
Bumbling
All the time
All the way
Like a fugitive on the run.
Succumbing
Tripping
Falling
Desperately hoping
Not to come undone.
Each time father says:
“Son, for every moment you’re not shooting for the stars
Another person is reaching for your heights.”
Makin’ me spend most of my time wondering
If I should be somewhere else
Instead of
Being exactly where I am.
Sayin’ to myself:
“This Must Be the Place.
And nowhere else.”
At least then I will know
At least I can say “thank you”
For all the places I was so sure
I was not supposed to be.
All those places I made it to
All the work I did at home
All the words I ever wrote
Even if for just one moment
At least
I will be exactly
Where I’m meant to be
Where I’m supposed to be.
Great to see a lot of support for this post, which is amazing because I seldom read poetry, and yet I can relate to this so well. Almost reads like song lyrics, this piece. But I like how you’ve captured the part of accepting where you are as where you’re supposed to be. At first read, I thought this was about being at home with words, but then I realised it was about just being in the present. Thanks for this!