Ancient and for always, back and forward.
It makes you vulnerable and lonely.
Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night, missing home.
freestocks.org
Suddenly, you miss your books with a shredded leaf forgotten in between pages.
Those bedtimes meant for reading.
You miss sleeping together- you and your book, you and those characters, you and your mixed-up dreams.
freestocks.org
The faces of friends you havent talked to in years.
Even though these faces are getting old, you know they still give hugs that warmth and love.
Those faces look at you and still see you.
You miss those empty cups and tarnished silver spoons, the torn and twisted rugs.
The gentle chimes of your grandfathers clock, softly striking each hour.
Home is where your heart belongs.
Home is your favorite black forest cakes in the red ribbon shops.
The music you overheard from the house next door.
Home is an intricate tattoo on the heart of eternity.
A home is where you hear familiar voices, feel the wind, the rain and the warmth sunlight.
Home is where you feel everything is okay, just because you know you are home.
How peaceful it is when youre home.
Where your heart belongs.
