When I don’t know where I am – not lost, but cut adrift, denied both roots and destination, unable to find my way back to anywhere familiar –

When even the past, present, and future are unclear – intermingled, superimposed, tense seemingly refuting tense –

Then – as no place is really mine, no place really home, as if there ever were a home – insinuating myself immediately, naturally, easily to any place, to the place I find myself, that place is home.

Never let it be said, I was untrue. I never found a home inside of you. Nothing begins ’til I get there – however brief – my home.