Always Home

What beauty is held within—

close, yet so far.
Within, yet out of reach.

For do we not see?
Beauty and peace,
hidden in clear sight.

Yet we search.
We rush.
We grasp.
Always trying,
always reaching—

searching with our eyes closed,

looking elsewhere
except here.

Inward.
Where it has always been.
Where we have always been.

Always here.
Always home.

- william goynes