Home for me has always been
Walled in dusty book jackets,
Captured on musty yellowing pages.
I leapt through the looking glass
With Alice, finding a kindred spirit
In search of escape to a happier land.
I spent hours in the garret
Sitting next to Jo as we both
Dreamed our literary dreams.
I stood beside Dorothy
On her tentative first steps
Down the yellow brick road.
I chased penguins through the basement
And jumped through sidewalk drawings.
I juggled a fish, a dish, a cake, and a rake
With Sally and Conrad on a rainy afternoon.
I searched the back of the wardrobe
Looking for a magical passage,
Seeking an audience with Aslan.
Even as an adult I still check
Each dewy morning spider web
For a friendly message from yesterday,
Knowing that whenever I feel
The urge to travel back home,
I only need turn the page.