Home where my thought's escaping
Where is home for you? is it your parents old house? scene of many a happy memory from much earlier days? is it your house now? with your kids? is it a room in that house? a tree house back at the parents? a crag on some windsept hill somwhere? a quarry with damp green holds?
To me home isnt a place, its a feeling. I feel home when im at my parents, its comforting, soft, easy, I feel safer than anywhere else. But I also feel this in the Lakes, or on pretty much any high hill, I feel its where I should be, I feel strangely in control, despite the overwhelming power of the elements around me.
Home isnt where I late my hat, its where I tread my soles, where I find my peace and my being.
posted by John Hunter at 8:42 am
1 Comments:
lovely piece of writing there, j.
for me, home is not only the beautiful home brian and i have built together (metaphorically speaking in the case of the house, literally in the case of the garden) but also in the eyes and smiles of my children. they say, home is where the heart is, and nothing makes my heart sing with more joy than my childrens' smiles.
a million quid advance for my book would perk me up for a few days, though ;)
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