I walked the long road back to the beginning and found it changed beyond recognition. I entered the house I once called mine and felt a stranger in each room. (It no longer knew me.) I spoke aloud the names I had carried and listened as they fell to the floor. I placed my hands on the earth and asked if it remembered my footsteps. (It no longer did.) I sat at the table where we once shared bread and found only the shadow of hunger. I touched the walls that once held laughter but they gave back only dust. I opened the windows to call in the light but the sky turned its face away. (It no longer entered.) I climbed the stairs to the room where I dreamed of return but the bed was empty. (It no longer offered rest.) I searched the garden for flowers that once carried your name in their scent. (It no longer bloomed.) I traced the path to the river where our voices once tangled in song. (It no longer sang.) I stood in the doorway waiting for forgiveness to arrive, as if on the next breath. (It no longer came.) I asked the silence for mercy but it was older and harder than stone. (It no longer gave.) [key change, instrumental intermezzo, 16 bars] I carried these refusals like gifts, heavy but wrapped in the paper of memory. I turned instead toward the horizon, carrying all that I had lost as if it were light. (It always is.) I stepped beyond the boundary of return and felt the weight shift into wings. (It finally lifted.) I walked forward with the exile behind me, the silence within me, the shadow beside me. (It became enough.)
