Libra’s Homecoming

An eruption of awareness from the sky—the thunder, lightning, and rain. Libra looks up and cries like never before. Making her way to a cab, the driver opens the door and reaches for her luggage. She says firmly: “No, that is mine.”

Settling in the front seat, fastening her belt, he winks and asks, “Where to, ma’am?” Libra had to think. “I don’t live on Yellow Brick Road anymore,” she replied.

Pulling a mirror from her purse, she gazes deep. “Go twenty-two miles north and stop.” He raises his eyebrows with half a grin. In silence they ride, having a conversation within.

The cab rolls to a stop. Sitting still one more minute, he opens her door and lets her out. Libra whispers in his ear, “It’s been quite a ride.” Hugging him goodbye, a tear falls. “Where are you going?” he asks.

Smiling, Libra softly says, “It doesn’t matter. I am home.”

She picks up her alchemical suitcases and turns down a dirt road as if she’s never felt the ground beneath her feet before. Her body hums with the Earth’s embrace. As the sun sets, she moves toward a grove of trees dancing at dusk. Resting her head on the oak’s bark, breathing like she has never breathed before, she inhales beauty all around.

Wings of wonder and magic dance like fire before her. Looking up at the stars, she exclaims:
“The best homecoming ever!”