I came back home-
But what is home, exactly?
A place? A floor? A roof and four walls to call mine?
People to live with-or maybe not.
But yes,
Home is surely
Someone to call yours.
Fully. Undoubtedly. Yours.
In peace, in war,
In sickness, in joy-
When the soul is theirs,
And theirs becomes yours too.
No more fear.
No more hiding.
No more wondering whom to run to,
Whom to love,
Whom to call friend.
Someone to rest your head on
When life feels too heavy.
Someone to hug,
To fill the room with the fragrance of your joy
Just by walking in.
Because not all floors, doors, or stairways
Are home.
Only you decide
What to make your home.
And when you do,
You'll know-
I came back home.
