Coming Home

I once called the house she lived in,

Home.

Not because I lived there,

But because she did.

Now she's been gone 12 years,

And that place has not been my home since.

It's just a house, a place I visit.

The years have been spent

Barely existing & aimlessly searching

For that feeling, that safe place,

Never finding it.

Looking for a place that didn't ever really exist,

Truth is, she was my home.

Her womb was my first,

Her arms, the walls that kept me safe,

Her heart, the compass for my own,

Her words, the directions when I was lost.

She birthed me to this world,

And wherever she was, I was safe,

I was comforted, I was known, I was complete.

Years spent looking for that home within someone else,

Trying to replace the irreplaceable, fill the void

And always ending in soul destroying heartbreak.

Lead me to a journey of deep self discovery.

Firstly to myself.

Finding that safety, that comfort, that nourishment,

Within myself.

Secondly, to surrendering.

Letting go of attachments to things and places,

To old beliefs and past wounds.

Recognising, Home is within me, always

And the greatest gift I can give anyone

Including myself

Is opening my heart, my real home

to all who surround me.

Rachel Davis

These Words Are Mine 2021