Home
where my heart aches
I squint, trying to look ahead in the darkness as I stand on the shore of my life. I smell the salt in the air as the large wave of indecision rises, ready to crash down on me at the slightest chance.
Go back home, the voices whisper.
I wonder aloud. What is home?
Is it the place I’ve spent the first few years of my life wanting to get out? Is it the place I didn’t want to come back to, yet returned to every night?
I look back at my footsteps on the sand, the younger me happy to move to a new house. He thought he found a home.
I smile.
What is home?
The place I was born? Or that faraway land — of green fields and blue rivers?
Stories of the land I grew up hearing tales of?
The moon rises across the navy blue sky dotted with twinkling stars. I stand alone, undecided.
What is home?
Is it the love of our dear ones? Or the love of unknown ones?
A home away from home?
They say home is where the heart is —
I wonder.
Where is home?
In response to Terijo’s ‘Home’ prompt —
