Home
Written by Mika Rivera
Read by Griffin Harris
You tell me that you are home.
I ask you, “How is that possible?”
So you open my soul,
Shut my eyes,
And begin to explain the meaning of home.
You remind me that a home isn’t a steady building with
a door and four walls.
A home does not have to be a place where you eat,
sleep, breathe in.
Walls and windows bordering those who reside in them.
A home can be a set of eyes and a heartbeat.
It can be two bodies that connect and ascend.
Home can be in the arms of a mother,
Brother, sister, or friend.
Home can be the white stars that take over the night sky,
Or the fertile ground where the dirt teaches flowers
how to grow.
Home can be soft rain and Sunday mornings,
Light skies and brighter days,
Orange sunsets and pink sunrises,
White clouds and long stays.
Home can be the vast sea that extends for miles,
Teaching my eyes that not everything is what it seems.
Home can be the smile on the face of a loved one
Or the way their eyes crease when they laugh.
Home is home,
And it teaches us that no matter where we are
We have somewhere to come back to,
Somewhere to rest our feet,
Somewhere to close and open our eyes.
A place called home.