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