Coming Home

I have lived in many rooms in many houses in many places, but I have only had a few homes - places where the heart feels open, art pours out, and life unfolds in a comfortable, enjoyable way. My parents' house, my childhood home, is one of those places. Mom knows how to bring memories and possibilities into the same room, intertwining both with beauty. She has the sharpest eye for home décor I've ever seen, and has the rare gift of turning her vision into reality.

Here's a little collage poem inspired by that:



Coming Home

Return to familiar turf:
the way things feel to the touch,
vacant reveries,
the best musings in the land:

You belong here.


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Happy birthday, Mamabear!