what home is –

where home is –

it calls

from a place inside

rather than out.

it is not a destination,

it is an indwelling,

and the map we seek –

search to find –

is right here, written

in the lines of our faces

and the creases of our hands.

elusive to follow,

changing with smiles and grasp,

altered by frowns and wet palms,

but always there,

always calling,

waiting

and true.

 

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