eleven years from this place

eleven years from this place
I have looked out at the world

where I have laughed
and cried, imagined,
prayed, sighed,

where I took my bicycle as a ten year old
worries as a fourteen year old
english literature as a sixteen year old
my husband as a twenty year old

a view
not worth a market million,
not worthy of sign that says "view"
but through my eyes:

a horizon,
a tangle of trees,
a cityscape,
a junk yard,
overgrown grass,
train tracks,
a mystery,
a dreamplace
hope

for a listening ear

and now
with barely five weeks
before we fly,

I look out
not sure of when I will be back
and what memories and joys and scars
I will bring back with me
but know
unwaveringly
my Lord will meet me here
again and again and again.