I’m sorry that this was late!
I hope your week has well. I feel like March has just blown past us and now’s it’s April! The air still has a slight chill, but at least I don’t dread going outside and getting hit in the face with large snowflakes. Now, I’m getting hit in the face with a cool breeze and sun. It was actually 55 degrees today and it seemed like there were more people simply lounging around. The park benches are being filled with people enjoying the weather and if there aren’t any room on the benches, then people were scattered throughout the quad.
This poem is titled, Home.
Home is where the heart is
Home is where you are.
Home is in your mother’s arms
or in your spouse’s arms.
Home is not tangible.
Home is something you build for ten years.
Home is something you find
Home is something you take with you.
Home tastes amazing
Home is at that restaurant.
Home is definitely not there
because it doesn’t feel right.
Home is where I am comfortable
Home is where sometimes dishes break and tears fall.
Home is where hugs are plentiful and laughter is loud.
Home is when I look into your eyes and everything fades away.
Home is just a one syllabic word and it moves with me.
Home is the sound of my mother cooking up a storm to make sure everyone is fed well.
Home is that delicious pastry that I can buy at the corner bakery. It reminds me of my mother.
Home is playing catch every evening with my father even after a long day of work and even when I had a ton of homework to do.
Home is where muddy footprints are cleaned up and people come and go.
Home is where the sun shines, where the snow falls and where the rain puddles.
I’ve always found it a little difficult to define home because home can mean different things for everyone besides the usual family and true feeling of comfort. Home can be seeing that person you love and like the song, Rather Be, that can be anywhere with that person. Home doesn’t necessarily have to be the physical home that you grew up in, but it can be the memories that you’ve gathered over time. With regards to the line, “Home is where sometimes dishes break and tears fall.” Home is full of growth and lessons learned. It isn’t always perfect and ideal at home, but in the end, there’s no place you would rather be than at home. Many of us may think of old childhood memories filled with dishes our mother used to make us and then when we got older and we didn’t have access to our mother’s cooking, we went searching for it.
After leaving home for school, I realized that home is not completely tangible. I can bring the memories, the pictures and the good food with me and the people and the feeling I’ve kept as home won’t ever fade from me. The word, home is an idea and we sculpt our thoughts of home, adding and subtracting things as we go through the years. The perfect touch of home may be that lamp in the corner or just a large family gathering. In this poem, I tried to capture everyone’s thought of what home may be being as specific as possible, but also keeping it general.
I hope you enjoyed this week’s Poetry Breakdown and look forward to a Mentality piece this Saturday.