Home is not the doorstep, not the porch, not the swing, it is not the ceiling and it is not a thing

Home is seeing your sisters empowered,
your parents at ease, your brothers relieved, your demons decieved

Home is a genuine smile, it is the authentic tears

Home is the magical word that can **** your fears

Home is a feeling embedded with layers of love, acceptance and peace

The rain fell, pitter-pat
To the earth below
Taking its time getting there
Knowing it only had one place to go

It whispered, “There is time to spare.”
So I listened to the stories it told
Its quiet assurance, its steady pace
Calmed my weary soul

The cover of clouds a welcome blanket
Providing my eyes a much needed break
From the light that blinds and pushes me
To go from the moment I wake

All this to say I love the sun
And the growth that comes with its days
But I will never love or grow as much
As I do on the days that it rains

life is like
when you're
a little kid
and you
discover that
there is more
than twenty-four
crayons in the box
that there is
the possibility
of forty-eight colors
of sixty-four
of one-hundred and twenty
that there are
so many shades
of love and anger and peace and despair
and absolute bliss
and the ability
to express them all
are now
in the palm
of your hand

life is
colorful
beautiful
thought-provoking
lovely
soulful
heartbreak­ing
inspiring
and absolutely wonderful

every day is
a new sunrise
a new chance
to transform into
the butterfly you
want to be

go out there
and change the world, kid