In this place called home
storms blow in
no one panics
no matter what falls from the sky
or
how
it
falls
In this place called home
wind & water
forge wild misty silences
so deep
my solitude's heart
beats
like a gift
In this place called home
your voice reaches
me
I remember
how important is the work of honesty
&
risk
In this place called home
you bring me back
yielding,
I lean into this place
Called
Home
This place, that you call home, is what every child should experience.
ReplyDeleteHome is sometimes not a place, but a feeling of being with people. You captured that very well.
ReplyDeleteIn this place, when the storm comes in, everybody (including me) panics.
ReplyDeleteFinal stanza is killer.
In this place called home, is the wherewithal to weather the storm, one would hope.
ReplyDeletepunch- i totally agree with you! thanks for the visit.
ReplyDeletemadame-- i am glad the people of this place shone through. thanks!
pisces-- every place is different, for sure. my home thrives on storms.... thanks for the comment on that final stanza... i was in there wondering about it for a while.
jadedj-- yes, indeed; the wherewithal is there(with all). weathering and riding it out... either, and/or both. thanks for the visit.
hey, y'all-- i really appreciate these generous comments and it means all the more 'cause you all are such amazing, thoughtful writers yourselves.
I am one who is home now because home is where I am not where I live.
ReplyDeletewm-- thanks for this thoughtful distinction... i admit to feeling more " at home " when i am in the place i call home.... something about it calls to me in ways that other places don't. but i can sometimes carry it with me into other places...
ReplyDeletethanks for the visit.