Home to me doesn’t
always have a shape.
It hasn’t always been
just a concrete space.
Nor has it been at
just one place.
It has been
in the places,
I have enjoyed
travelling to.
in the places
i yearn to be at.
on the shoulders,
where I have laid
my head and wept.
in the lap of my birth giver.
in the company of
people who have
helped me feel alive.
in the hands that
have comforted me.
Home to me is
in the songs, I have
found solace in.
in the window seats
of the buses and trains
I have travelled in.
in the purple-pink
skies that I have
stared in awe.
in the starlit
velvet skies
I have gazed at.
in the numerous
sunsets
and sunrises,
I have savoured.
in the waves that
have swept the shore
and buried my feet.
Home to me.
If you ask me.
It is all these
short-lived
moments,
imagery
and feelings.
And how incredible
is it to feel at home
everywhere and
know that pieces
of you still reside
in all of them?
