Photo by Olesia Misty on Unsplash. For Day 13 of the November Poem-A-Day Challenge
**
You have carried yourself
into a far country
untethering yourself
from the strings
of domesticity
and caring and the hold
of warm soup bubbling
over the warm embers
of Mother’s hearth.
You have dragged
your portion of our things
over the misty mountains
into a strange place where
the voice of the Matriarch
is obscured by the cooing of the birds
and the singing of the sirens.
May you find yourself
in that strange place,
may the luck of the ones
who went before not leave
may Mother’s eyes not see death
until you return
to your place.