Compass Take Me Home

I have the compass in the palm of my left hand.

I am searching for due north but the compass needle cannot seem to make up its mind.

It spins furiously and I cannot understand why.

I only made one simple request.

“Compass take me home…please.”


Take me home because I don’t know where home is anymore.

I’ve been wandering down this wooded path, trying to follow the signs

but with every step I take the signs become more unreadable.

And I walk on, because my feet are urging me forward.

“Compass take me home…”


Because home has morphed into the butterfly and taken flight into the vast unknown.

No longer is it safe within the warm cocoon that had sheltered it from the elements of life.

Home has flitted off into the distance, out of reach and unattainable.

It floats on the breeze in the forest that I walk, as I try to catch it but I have yet to be successful.

“Compass don’t let me lose my way…”


I follow the butterfly, my eyes locked on its wings furiously fluttering.

I stumble over uncovered roots and rocks laid out before me because my feet have no guidance.

My senses are disconnected and I am not seeing the forest as a whole.

The only being I see is the butterfly.

“Compass don’t let me lose my way…”


I continue in this way, feet moving, eyes determined, hands outstretched.

My foot collides with another rock but this time, I cannot catch myself.

My body crashes into the ground, and suddenly my limbs are all working together.

My eyes see the end and tell my hands to catch my fall, and my legs to bend in a way that softens to blow.

“Compass, I’m sorry I got so distracted”


The compass tumbles from the palm of my hand, bounces off the path, and lands somewhere my eyes can’t reach.

I roll onto my back, staring up into the tangle of branches above me, and I am shocked.

The butterfly is gone, nowhere to be found, but in its place I see the light shining through the leaves and branches, I feel the warmth of its rays gently caressing my face, I can feel the contrast of the cool earth beneath my back, pebbles poking into the tension that sits in knots.

I am bewildered by the beauty that has been all around without me even noticing it.

“Compass, thank you, but I think I know the way now.”


I slowly and gently right my body to where I am standing on the path again.

I retrieve the compass from its resting place in the thicket of bushes and place it in my satchel.

I inhale deeply, close my eyes, and when my breath releases, my eyes open and forest is a whole new world.

A vivid blue sky peeks through the canopy of leaves, the moss I run my hand across is more pronounced and lush beneath my fingertips. A chipmunk scurries from bush to bush while a bird does the same, but among the trees.

“Compass I am home”


The forest is much larger than just that one butterfly.

There are sounds whirring through the air that I had never heard before.

Colors that seemed brighter than I had ever thought possible.

Finally, I had realized that I had been home all this time in a world where colors abound and the path stretches before me with no end in sight. I am home in a world where every chipmunk, every bird, every butterfly, every being deserves to be noticed.

“So Compass let’s keep moving”


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