Home (Side B)

I sit in utter darkness. A country empty from light.

I question. I debate. I ponder. A stream of thought no end in sight.

What is home?

The answer as uncertain as the electricity in Beirut.

Never once succeeding to define this word without root.

My life divided neither here nor there.

One too many versions of me to bear.

Split between East and West, between birthplace and country.

Floating in the wind like a leaf detached from its home-tree.

My soul fragmented, am I that or am I this?

An empty hole within my heart for something I eternally miss.

The more I grew, the more I felt like a foreigner in my own skin.

The more I searched, the more I realized what home had always been.

Home was ever-changing, ever-evolving, not solid, not concrete.

It was neither soil, nor land, nor a house upon a street.

Home is within and not just without.

Your body, housing your soul, bringing what is inside out.

It's the warm touch of a mother's embrace

The smile upon her child's face.

The words spoken to the people we choose.

The meaning of the vows, the I love you's and I do's.

Home is where your true happiness is found

It is not a place to which you are forever bound.

It is the laughter at a joke, the prayer before every meal.

It is the first breath when you awake, and the peace that you feel.

Home is the here, and the now, the miracles big and small.

It is the stories that we share that matter to us all.