I am Home.

Written over a cup of Chai.

In the still, soft awareness of the night.

In the loud, raucous clarity of the day.

In the car with percussion pounding my brain.

In the park with squirrels crossing my path.

 

In the office, hustling, bustling, and keen.

In the house, silent, familiar, and laid-back.

In the cafe, filled to the brim with diversity.

In the church, empty six days out of seven.

 

In the arms of a stranger, I forgot to catch his name,

In the embrace of my mother, I share with her my pains.

In the eyes of my niece and nephew, to whom I can never do wrong.

In the mind of mine enemies, to whom I get nothing but scorn.

 

My home is her and also there, never and always at once.

My home is where I am right now, where I was and where I'll be.

My home is never far from view, in fact its here for you to see.

My home is part and piece and whole, my home is here in me.

Author's Note

Enjoy. This is one of my favorites. I think of it sometimes to ground myself.

Reviews

[Markymark]

I did enjoy. Reminds me of an old song "I've got my home in my hands." Home is where the heart is, and there is no place like home. You are correct: This piece should ground you and cause you to reflect upon the importance of knowing who (and Where) you are.

Thanks

Markymark