An eternal memory

Home, what a word I can scarcely recall

A feeling that was so dear to me I think

Some time long ago.

That the distance from its inception ,

Those memories lost to time

Feel in the moment false ,

Yet I know that they once were mine .

But I must remind myself of the truth,

As my bereft spirit roams

That what they mean ,

The thing they called home ;

Was something I used to know .

That it comes to me again ,

In the pages of old books ,

Their vibrant colors speaking of joy;

The embrace of the setting sun ,

The warm glow of a shining moon,

Old dreams brought to life once more ;

Speaking through their loving gaze ,

That they come to visit a friend forever more.

It is in these moments ,

Memorials to times past,

That I come to know

What I had long forgot .

Home is the thing of the soul’s affection ,

That it loves and comes to be loved ,

Not merely a place of mortar or brick ;

It is the soft purr of a childhood pet ,

The waxing vibrancies of the sun ,

The breeze of rustling grass ,

The tender kiss of a first love.

Home is to know and be known,

One’s love requited and whole .

It is a destiny for us all ,

An inevitable pairing for our souls.