The goodby of a thousand leagues.
\nWhere is land\u2019s end
\nfor the voices calling her
\nin that place called India?
\nA walk in the moonlight.
\nA call inside her soul.
\nThey are here.
\nShe can smell their clothes.
\nParents who held her hand,
\nwhen they were not ill.
\nWhen their family was complete,
\nan untorn rug,
\na chant that hummed in harmony.<\/p>\n
She is returning,
\nchanged,
\ntransformed.
\nThe furniture of her soul
\nrearranged in the house of her mind.
\nNo more incense.
\nThe air of Ohio,
\nat once so new,
\na marmalade of scent,
\nnow the breath inside her.<\/p>\n
To help her mother and father
\nin their illness.
\nLife falling on the floor.
\nPain to be swept up.
\nAnd time
\nto be parceled
\nbetween the edges of a world,
\ntoo big for eyes to see,
\ntoo small,
\nto account for love.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The goodby of a thousand leagues. Where is land\u2019s end for the voices calling her in that place called India? A walk in the moonlight.…<\/p>\n