“A Twist of the Zoom” © Bonnie Matthews Brock


Migrating Toward Home

Sometimes we discover an inner knowing,
a beacon only we can see that points the route
toward home. Like migrating birds’ inner
compass, we’re spirited by changing light
and weather—zugunruhe—migratory restlessness,

the desire to move, build a new nest in a climate
right for our rhythm. I knew I wanted a forest,
no other houses close, to be off the road
and far from traffic and the stink of cars,
racket of neighbors’ music, shouts,

their constant mowing, trimming. How could
I know I wanted a pond until I saw this one?
Sacred lotus blossoms and pads covering July’s
black water. A gazebo. I didn’t know how much
I longed for birdsong, foxes and opossums

near, each seasons’ changing chatter. The refugee
inside me recognized the right coordinates
and brought me to the same latitude
as my ancestors, told me to act as steward
of this land, plant vegetables, and to grow

between book and notebook pages, told me
the bubbling scent of sourdough fermenting
would transport me toward the language
of my true self discerned. Helpless,
without free will, I obeyed that call.


Joan Mazza has worked as a microbiologist, psychotherapist, dream workshop leader, and is the author of six books, including Dreaming Your Real Self. Her work has appeared in well known and unknown places, and she has more books than she will ever read. And keeps buying them. She’s nearly a hermit in rural central Virginia.

Bonnie Matthews Brock is a Florida-based photographer, as well as a school psychologist. Her images have been published in Ibbetson Street, The Somerville Times, Oddball Magazine, Beyond Words Literary Magazine, and Wild Roof Journal. Her work is archived at Harvard University, the University of Buffalo, and Poets House in NYC. Bonnie loves to capture, in images, a very wide range of subjects, and to learn and experiment with shooting and editing techniques.