Oh, my home. My home is where
you are; my heart. It is where
my footsteps grew, I fell apart,
both young and old. Tender and new,
I stood with the door hanging ajar.
I stood and breathed in the outside air,
I stood and was engulfed with sky and sun
and an atmosphere that sounded my soul;
my very soul rang within every tendon. Was I
destined to live among such rich landscape?
Has anyone ever been that blessed?
Such a large world ready for me,
my adolescent eyes could not see it all
at once. I could not see beyond my doorstep.
But one day, not so far from here,
I'll be out there. And yes, I will enjoy it.
Maybe one day I will become so accustomed
to enjoying sweet grass or city streets
that I won't want to come back to my heart.
My rigid, contorted, old-fashioned heart.