home

and all that connotes

a place of beginnings
and endings
and the living in between
coffee in pajamas
necessity of electricity
and showers always taken indoors

the place that smells familiar
the place where boxes hold your memories
the place to hang your toothbrush
do your laundry
make your bed
and pile high all your stuff

the place for things still wet from stormy shores
under the same one sun dry
the place where you find balance
of inner dreams and desire
real life needs and demands
the place where what really matters
comes into focus
and is heard through traffics deafening drone

home

every day adds to another
a step on the long journey home

do not look at the things which are seen
but at the things which are not seen
for the things which are seen are temporary
but the things which are not seen are eternal
                         2 Corinthians 4:18

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