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Coming Home

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This poem is a dedication to those who have worked regularly with humans in acute or chronic distress + have put themselves in the line of real or invisible fire during their daily effort to support our way of life.

 

  The act of "Coming Home" can be more than simply being done with your work day.  It's the active effort of coming back to our bodies + minds, after temporarily or unconsciously choosing to turn parts of ourselves off during our job in order to do a good job. 

 

If you know what I mean without further explanation, than this might be for you.  With that said, as you read this or possibly share with others, take care of yourself in the ways you choose to come back home.

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Want to read the story

that inspired the poem? 

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I can't feel my body,

I'm losing my mind.

I'll come home to both,

In my own time.

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My feet tell me now,

Where I need to be.

My legs move me fast,

To save or safety.

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My hands show me when,

I might need to pray.

My heart moves my blood,

To live for today.

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My eyes may deceive,

So we'll need to breathe.

One breath for you,

One breath for me.

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I can't feel my body,

I'm losing my mind.

I'll come home to both,

In my own time.

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