My Home Poem by RIC BASTASA

It is not a house, and so it is not a piece
Of structure, not the roof or
The floor
Or the kitchen or the living room,

My home is where I grow
Wherever it is
Where I become fully myself
Alive &
Prosperous in my endeavors

It is where my most important
Work is started
And finished and
Appreciated
In this sense my home becomes
A certain place
Where I am accepted
& affirmed
& appreciated
Where I have self-esteem
Where I
Do not feel this sense of
Sickness & death
This alienation

It is when I travel so far
Searching
And it is where
I must return and always desiring
& dreaming
To be back
And find it again
With all anticipation
This is also my home

My home is not what I buy
And pay
It is what I made
For myself
My personal touch
My own way of showing
What I am
And can be

And as one what one writer once wisely puts it
My home is not a house
It is me
It is people

It is the people around me
It is the love that I give
And they give in return
That makes
My home and it is where
Despite everything
That I am truly
Always
Homeward bound.