Home is in the bones
The red marrow you create
The hair above your lip
The bones that define your hips
The rough hands that feed you
Cracked feet that walk the earth
Woman human man being
Your being is all you
And when you close that door
Peel the day from your skin
And slip under those sheets
remember
You are the only home
you'll ever come home to
I wrote this after meditating on my patio.
Home was always a feeling for me. It never really manifested as a physical place. This is a reminder to myself that it is in fact both of those things. We all create home within every single day. In every moment unconsciously yet, we rarely regard our own bodies as the place we constantly return to, despite never having physically left.