The Wanderer

I'm a gypsy, a wanderer.

If it is true that you can't go home again,

then I don't have a home.

I must be a gypsy, a wanderer,

bonding with every city,

falling in love with the farmland,

the churches, the cemeteries, 

that have held my family for generations.

It is true I have returned,

and felt no less at home,

than I did in countless places,

where I have spent my years.

Then I suppose I have not yet found home,

only places to live and places to love

and places to admire.

Is home where you grew up?

Where you graduated?

Where your family has settled down?

Or is it a place you spend all your life

searching for,

only to find that you left it long ago?

Reviews

[NeiL ArandA]

Home is where the heart is. It is not a place as I heard once or twice before but simply an irrevocable condition. I have an ancestral home where I grew up with. If I go there now and retrace my footsteps and relive the pleasant and unpleasant memories that shape me of who I am now. I won't feel at home there anymore but a temporary visitor or a guest. At least the prodigal son is still welcomed home. But I really don't know. Perhaps home is really built inside everyone's heart until we look for it in afterlife ...

[free will]

Thats nice, searching for a home...only knowing you've found your home when you feel a part of place, and yeah maybe it may have been left along time ago. I like the thoughts on this piece. well done :)

[Haley Wilson]

A short piece, but it sure does leave an impact. I think finding 'Home' is a journey for everyone, it can be a quiet place, in the arms of a lover, or the house where your childhood took place in, Amazing work!