A Place Worth Saving

Home to me cannot ever be a simple box of walls and doors built on concrete.

Home to me is an out of tune piano with music books you have been neglecting. It’s a Kool-Aid stain on the parlor carpet from a time of mischief making and it’s the smell of breakfast upon awakening.

But,

Home is also a lemonade stand with your friends in rainy weather.

Home is finding a Hot-Wheels car in a garden where the sandbox had been forever.

Home might be a scratched and warped dining table from nights of rowdy family dinners.

Home will always be where you can drop burdens for a while and contains a good listener.

Home to me is my mother singing my siblings and I to sleep and where I feel love fully unleashed.

Home can be miles away and yet still be within hands reach.

It is not a destination nor is it dependent on relation.

Home can be wherever you need it to be whether its on land or the high seas.

Because a home is built by the memories.