THE RIDGE
I walked to the ridge,
and stood on the edge
and far below, was home.
I could see it far across the valley
tucked at the foot of the mountain,
sheltered in its lee.
I steeled myself to re-adjust
to the high cold of the plateau,
unaccustomed as I was
by long months of travel
in warmer climes,
searching for something lost.
I had roamed the world,
for beauty. I had looked in every
hidden corner, for peace.
And finally, as I stood upon the ridge,
I realised that what I left,
to find, was right here all along.
Beauty, and peace, and food for the soul.
Sometimes you have to leave,
to come home.
copyright Roisin Duffy