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O to have endless stretch ‘pon earth to roam,
Return to rest, to roost, to my sweet home.

Sweet home, forever a mighty magnet
To go back to an ever open gate,

Its awe and allure never once on wane,
Nor depends on what it might well contain.

For, home’s no house with a roof, walls and beams, 
What makes it what is: love and lasting dreams,

What makes it home are sweetest memories,
Strife and struggles that bind, make families.  

Bricks and mortars make no more than shelters,
Home, of love of shades that fades nor falters.

I’ve never heard of a home constructed
Like brick-built house, but painstakingly made.

History hath hailed homes in print so bold—
That its hollow of heart’s lined with pure gold.

O inspire me to go and explore world,
Which, having done, hail this migrating bird.

My mind. my feet may wander all the dome,
Not heart, it haply drops anchors at home. 

If life be a coiled thread, one end in hand,
Thou doubtless art O Home the other end,

One may or not get to the coil’s far end,
The way to thee Home, always is in hand.

What magic that one tends to hate to leave,
And feels good to return one early eve.   

Man flies but misses that feel of firm ground
And looks for it like a child mother-bound. 

So I feel if for long in foreign land,
What’s that O Motherland ye hold in hand?

If to my soul, body be lifelong home,
To atman why not all the cosmic dome?  

Few things sound sweeter than thee, O my home,
When deeply uttered, ye sound nigh like AUM.

In mother’s gaze of grace and warm embrace,
One feels at home from lifetime’s toil-filled race.

There’s sunny warmth and shelter of blue sky,
Thou art the last resort from every sigh.

In life man may have triumphed, travelled far,
Notstanding still, home hails like Polar Star.  

Whenever he hath lost his life’s address,
Sweet home, ye always beckon O to bless.
_________________________________________
Ode | 02.02.2023 | home

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