Coming Home

In fact, myself.
I am, in fact, myself.
I feel, in fact, myself.
I see, in fact, myself.
For all the striving and struggling,
The years where mirrors hid tears, fears and nothingness,
I am starting to see.
Where the air is clear and the trees part,
Amber honey with their changing leaves,
And make way.
A clearing.
A gateway.
A door.
Welcoming me in.
Welcoming me home.
Through the looking glass.
And I am here.
Whole.
And alive.
I survived.
And, I am home.
I am at peace.