MAP BACK HOME

Window shade up on the overnight
City below made a net of light
Folded directions in Mama's hand
Turn by the church, then the tamarind
Grease on the corner, blue ink thin
One road renamed since I'd last been
Pilot said “home”; my chest said, “Prove it”
Some places wait, but they don't stay frozen

I knew every word
But not every road
I carried the map
And still felt alone

Map back home, open in my hands
Lines have changed, but the landmarks stand
If the road forgets every name I've known
Love, draw me a map back home

Taxi turned where the old shop stood
New glass tower over childhood wood
Driver asked which gate; I gave the old name
He smiled and said, “Nobody calls it that these days”
Then the tamarind rose past a concrete wall
Smaller than memory, alive through it all
Mother at the doorway, silver in her hair
Didn't ask why it took me years to get there
She touched that paper, laughed at the stain
Said, “You kept my directions through all that rain”
I said, “The map brought me.” She shook her head:
“No, child — you came when your heart was ready instead”

Home was never hiding
at the end of those lines.
The map only gave my hands
something to hold
while forgiveness found the road.

Map back home, folded in our hands
Roads will change, but the tamarind stands
When the world renames every place I've known
Love will draw the map back home

I'm here.