A photo of a living room entryway into a kitchen

There’s a place I go,
where I am allowed to grow—
where my layers are undone,
and my inner voice is sung.

In its open plan, I twirl around the kitchen floor.
I feel its spacious room.
I dance until dawn,
till I see the mango-colored sun,
and my sleeping soul wakes up.

There’s a place I go
where the frames and ceilings do not keep me,
but instead, they call me in
with sounds of guitar strings,
sips of sweet wine,
a soft armchair to lean on
and a fire warmth within.

There’s a place I go—
it is here,
it is home,
it exists inside of me.

“Home,” they said, “is where the heart is.”
“Home,” I replied, “is wherever I will be.”

Home, where my feet fulfil their purpose,
I’ll carry with me, step by step,
wherever life may lead.
For home will never leave me.
In fact, it’s always with me.
It’s wherever I will be.

“Home,” I replied, “is wherever I will be.”

Image via Daniel Collopy, Darling Issue No. 7

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

*