soul diaspora

sorry for swearing

it is not an overstatement these days when i say that i don't rightly know where i belong.

i am aware of the idea, the notion, the dream of making one's home in jesus himself. john 15 to 17 being my favourite parts of the entire bible, i know that he wants me to join with him..to be with him...to live with him.

but my cds are in BS5 and my tired sorry ass is in GL1....

my best friends are in M14, M16, Uganda, Australia, that London, the north west....and my cold-ridden head is in GL1...

my coffee cups, my DUVET, my winter coats and my beautiful books are in a house that does not feel like home...and yet i am in a house that does feel like home, save for the absence of my coffee cups, my duvet, my winter coats...you get the idea....

my best-self is ten weeks ago, and my wet face, my tired eyes and my sorry heart are here, ten weeks later.....

nothing fits...nothing is where it ought to be. certainly nothing is where it was the last time things all fitted.

i can't find anything. i want to wear a certain pair of earrings, i look and realise they are 35 miles away.

i turn to look for those grey eyes, hoping to find them already looking at me...and they are nowhere....

nothing is where it ought to be...