Betty Janko Poet Prose

Where Is Home

There once was a time when HOME 
had a special meaning.  It was a shelter 
where the family treasures lived 
under one roof for a lifetime.  
An anchor that grounded everyone 
who resided there. 
A time when you welcomed your neighbors 
with open doors and windows, 
as the smells of their traditions 
filled the air. 
A time when you thought your home 
would always be there. 

And then progress arrived, 
and the neighborhoods were replaced 
with buildings, and bigger and better houses,
and you were forced to move on. 
Now the feeling of home took on 
a different meaning.  

Now you live in a house with walls 
that hold all of your “things.”  
The family treasures are placed on a shelf
to help remind you of your past.  
Where neighbors stay in their own personal space.  
Where what used to be a home that felt permanent 
is now a temporary place. 

The world is now mobile, and you must create
a new home in a special place that can never 
be taken from you, no matter how many times 
you change your surroundings. 

As you sit in this moment let your mind go back 
to the life you lived in those other places, 
the smells of the neighborhood, 
the joys and sorrows of family, 
and the love of God you shared. 
Memories are the place where you can find 
a home that you can carry with you. 
This is where a home is built, in your mind, 
where you feel in control, and safe.  

Close your eyes, and let peace flood over you. 
This is your new HOME.

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