We are discussing the comforts of home this week with Aileen Santos’ beautiful poem. This work helps define the indescribable comfort of having a place to retreat.
He had a seizure here and had to be
rushed to the hospital
She walked down those steps and entered
into her first day of school
I cried on my bed when my grandma died
We fought and he slammed that door
Where our lives come to fruition
Where our dreams start and come true
Yet we still leave, after parts of our souls have been ingrained in the wood
in the paint on the walls
splattered across ceilings and floors.
Gypsies, nomads wander, not lost
Some of us though
trying to find where we belong
until our hearts feel whole with the people who inhabit it.
You have been my solace, my comfort, my soft place to fall, my sigh of relief after a terrible day.
You had my back when I was alone in the world
reminding me, in repose, that tomorrow is a new day.
Even though the poem starts with a tragic affair, in the end we see the close bond that people make with certain environments.
Come back next week for another great piece!