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Going Home

She forgives herself
for staying away so long,
but it doesn’t help.
Guilt, like lurking twilight,
threatens to bury the sun.

This time, the journey is different.
This time, the journey might be different.
This time, the journey isn’t different
but perhaps bearable
in a way that creates pictures
out of puzzle pieces.

Confession, like impending dawn,
is an inevitable grace from darkness.
The dream,
she is relieved to discover,
was merely a dream,
not prophecy.

Going home,
she arrives
greater than
when she departed.

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