Heat on the skin
Soaking into pores
Healing cracks deeper than the known layers
Lines form from the confidence of what has been achieved
What mountains have been climbed
What land has been reclaimed
No longer a wandering nomad
This home will be shaken
But its now reinforced walls will not fall down
Sound your trumpets and raise your hands
A solitary victory is something to cling to
It is exhausting in a way that is unexplainable to nourished souls
Learning the taste of something beyond survival
Your extended hand is no longer necessary to my existence
But I will gladly hold on to your friendly gesture as a sign of hope in a humanity that has not yet turned its back on what it is to be
A privilege to interact
An observance of beauty
A duty to peace and love
I will hold on to the feeling of today’s warm sun
