home...sweet home

far or near

no matter where

we all just want a home

a little place

to call our own

to keep our things

to put our toothbrush
our cell phone
our memory boxes

the place to lay our burdens down
and pick up our cross

we rest our head
next to another
we lay our babies down

in the sanctuary of bed

rooms that flow

good light is nice

and no water in the basement
electricity

internet and cable

green space for gardening and playing

a place to sit to share our meals
to do nothing but be still

a place to belong

a place to create 

music

love

life

I can only search for something 

that I have, to some degree, 

already found.

How can I search for beauty and truth 

unless that beauty and truth are already known to me 

in the depth of my heart?

It seems that all of us human beings have 
deep inner memories of the paradise that we have lost. 

Maybe the word "innocence" is better 
than the word "paradise."

We are innocent before we started feeling guilty

we were in the light before we entered the darkness

we were at home before we started to search for a home.

Deep in the recesses of our minds and hearts 

there lies hidden the treasure we seek. 

We know its preciousness

and we know that it holds the gift we most desire

a life stronger than death.

               Henri J.M. Nouwen  Life of the Beloved