searching . building

Swim freely my queen bee, swing the trees little monkey. Frolick the garden, unguarded. 

Please, I still have time left. Leave me be, allow me to continue for a few moments longer. Extenuating circumstances have had my confidence falter. Just give me some time to find shelter. I won't avoid the storm but I need to know I have comfort, a home. Though my attempts have been halted, I'll continue to search. It never ends, my friend. Please don't hurt me again. The storm carries on. The worst is the darkness, the night interrupted only by lightning and thunder. The day brings the rain, a heavy downpour. The storm may never end, I'm no God. I'll scream and shout or I'll whisper my peace, but the noise drowns it out either way. Brief peace is a lightning rod. I'm trying to find my way home. I'll walk a million miles in every direction. Every step feels treacherous, how long can I search? How can I be sure of any home I do find? Each question adds doubt, increasing the weight of each step. Maybe one day I'll stop searching. Maybe the comfort of hoping that home is just past this next mountain will one day leave me. Maybe one day I can trust myself enough to build my home. One day, maybe, I'll be able to let other people in. I'll have a shelter that will allow others to take their deserved rest from their own search for a home. Maybe I can help them understand that they already have the tools they need before I send them on their way. Maybe she just might stay.