home is:
the quiet place in my heart
that emerges
when I look up to someone beautiful,
when I stretch with eyes closed,
when I glance to a scene that feels like it was once dreamed.
home is:
the happiness embodied
while engaging with family,
while silently laughing with a friend,
while being comfortably alone yet together with a lover.
home is
the celebration
inside of my skin
and the spontaneity
of connecting to memories, dissolving time.
Home is inside of me, accessed by feeling, awareness, and an almost nostalgia.
A place I nourish each time I care for my skin, my bones, my body.
Home is a place within and of me.
About the Creator
Helena Helios
practicing writing
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My Socks are Folded
Everywhere I gaze I see me – I’m at my place, in my room, inside. For contrast, I open up a social media platform I still enjoy and there I see someone, in a city that I love but am away from, has dressed up as a clown and has taken to the street holding a sign that says, “bonne fête la covid” (in all capitals). I cannot laugh at this. In response, I find myself with eyes narrowed, mouth breathing and trying to understand the feelings that are arising in me. I’ve been analyzing my self, my relations, and my lifestyle a lot this past year especially. The pandemic has been compounded with some inclement interpersonal weather – including events and situations that require gear and tools I’m still learning how to use – but something that has provided me with consistent comfort and growth is organizing my place and life to be filled with more glimmers (for hope and futurity) rather than triggers.
By Helena Helios5 years ago in Humans
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