Home

Close your eyes, child.

Feel the pulse of your heart,

The gentle coursing of your mind.

Flip back through memory’s pages,

And know who you are.

Feel your mother’s arms around you,

Your father’s.

Think of days when you were small

And had not a care in the world.

When your family was all your world,

Your family and your friends.

This is where your heart lies, child.

This is, and always will be, your home.

Your home is within, behind, around.

It is not, never has been, and never will be,

A place, a dot on a map.

Home is fluid.

Home is life.

Home is your place of security,

Your place of welcomeness.

Home is where your heart is.

Now, dear child, open your eyes.

Home is not all that exists.

The world is bigger.

Your heart was not meant to remain

Always in one place.

Home was not meant to be stationary.

There are people out there, child,

People who search for home.

You have found it, child,

You have always had it.

Give it to them.

Love them.

Make them a part of your heart,

Your home.

You are home.

They are home.

Everywhere is home.

Love your home.


I’d be curious to know what you think of this poem.  What impressions you get off of it.  How you interpret it.  Let me know in the comments below. ❤

Love,

Beautiful Blackwater.

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2 thoughts on “Home

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  1. I really liked this, especially because I have never lived in one place for more than a few years. So often I have felt homeless. For a time, I even was. This poetry makes me feel that sense of warmth that I lacked, that I only ever felt when I visited my cousin’s house, that sense of belonging.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m glad you enjoyed it, Ossuary. That’s part of what fed my writing this. I’ve moved a lot too. Recently we moved three times in the space of two years. Thankfully the latter of those two were just for better housing situations, but the first of those was being ripped up from where all my friends were.

      One of the places I get to go back to that stays the same even when I keep moving is my grandparents’ house. My parents and I loved there for a few years when I was little. It’s nice, because they haven’t moved since before my mom was born. It’s my stable place, kind of like your cousin’s place is for you, from what you said.

      Why have you had to move so many times? Mine is because my dad is a pastor, and the ministry tends to move us around every few years, sometimes more frequently for some families.

      Like

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