Home is humane
much like a mother's love
that's omnipresent, caring and warm,
Much like her absence, is the house that is just
brick and mortar.
For in her absence,
the roof changes into dark clouds,
the floor cracks into an abyss,
shaking my hold on the earth,
to that of a child who is on his feet,
for the very first time,
Where is my home?
the space so familiar, but the feeling gone?
The child I am,
stood there waiting for a hand to hold his,
to show him the way.
but all I saw,
was brick and mortar.