Home

What is home ?

Is it a place? A thing?

Is it the wedding ring

From the person you thought you’d spend forever with?

Is it the house you grew up in?

Or maybe your best friend’s ?

I’m not sure if it’s any of these.

Because I don't think anywhere, or anyone has ever felt like home for me.

But you see

Maybe it doesn’t have to be any of that.

Maybe it’s wherever you want it to be.

Wherever your heart and soul feels free.

Just the simplicity

Of being with another being.

In fact

Maybe it's all just a theory.

Us as humans make up so we have something to believe in.

Home. People, places, things.

It’s not that easy.

Not for me.

I’ve never had a home of my own.

Planted seeds, where i thought i’d see

My family growing old and happy.

I’m more like a gypsy.

No real place to call home.

Maybe it's my memories.

Of all the places I’ve been, and the people I have seen.

All the faces, and places I have come across.

All the friends, and even enemies I have lost.

More of the journey, rather than the destination.

Across this universe, no explanation.

No hand book giving at the beginning.

Home.

Does it have to be people, places or things?

Can’t it be as easy as “I love you”

Or the smell of the blooming lily of the valley?

The smile someone gives you from across the street

After having the worst day you could have, possibly

It's the first time you hold your baby.

The warm feeling you get in your heart

That tells you “she will never leave me”.

How can you tell, honestly?

Maybe it is all of these.

Just the feeling of being at peace.

To each his own, but one thing i do know

The closest i have ever been to home.

Is when I am looking out to sea.

How it flows so endlessly.

Back and forth, waves for eternity.

Sitting with only me.

I close my eyes, breath.

Let go of all the anxiety.

Home. It’s where I long to be.