Lofty high hills,
Pastures green,
Wide blue sky,
Beside a concealed spring-
Is a home for me standing still.
My heart runs there
To find ethereal peace;
That pours like rain-
Amidst sweet swift breeze,
Against a bamboo shield.
When my heart is hurt-
It calls me in,
Giving me company, I seek,
Of happy times, it sings
Full of dear memories.
Tired and broken, due to world around;
That's when it holds me tight.
Filling the gaps tearing me apart,
It shelters me with all its might;
Barricading the stupid pain.
The soft heat of a peeking sun;
The falling leaves of maple trees,
Remind me of my tiny abode
In the cool zephyr of Autumn's niche.
A place, I feel as wannabe.
Home of my childhood;
Home of my dreams.
With my mother waiting with open arms,
Its the prettiest home to me.
-VAISAKHI MISHRA
p.s.-for people who have to stay away from their actual home, their parents....maybe due to work studies or whatever reasons...."heaven where our close ones stay"....
