Where Does It Feel Like Home? (a poem)
Emanations of the Philosophy of Life Instinct
Read the poem aloud, dear reader, and you’ll find a rhythm and enjoy it more than reading it silently.
Where Does It Feel Like Home?
My eyes open in pretty Interlaken at dawn,
The hotel’s been lovely, and two days gone;
It’s beautiful like many places we roam,
But why do none of them feel like home?
Awaking at home is somehow different,
There’s a relaxed ease and contentment;
Like belonging and connecting at birth,
Being home is like hugging the earth.
It made me wonder where’s home for me,
Has it been a cantonment, town, or city?
Would I say Bangalore, Pune, or Sydney?
Locations of my birth, growth, maturity.
I may intuit the answer from the heart,
But I must also satisfy my thinking part;
For it’s undeniably something to share,
What makes a spot home somewhere?
Is it just a matter of time? Is that enough?
First-generation, second, third, how long?
Is it…
