Home

Oh, notion of home, when did you leave me? I distantly bethink the comfort of your refuge, Though, wonder; was I ever free? Was I ever yours to rescue? Great plains of the world are you not all mine? Is it not the will of God that we explore? To flourish, to enjoy, the world that He has given, If not for this, what for? What beauties shall I never see, If I do not live without confinement? Oh, notion of home, you temptress! I shall not yield to your enticement! I am no more a child, Such childish thoughts are these. A home is not made of brick, or wood, Or denied without the key. It is to accept the world; Every strand and every stone. It is to accept who you are, That is our home.