home- a reflection from a wanderer. ( pondering Stephen Cherry's Barefoot Prayers)

what is home?

where is home?

I have always been a wanderer, 

I have moved from county to county,

from country to country,

even continent to continent,

I could be a professional packer,

I unpack quickly too,

I can make a place look settled,

books sorted,

pictures hung

within a week...

but is it home?

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sometimes I want it to be,

sometimes I long to move on...

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I will move on,

for now it is what I do...

even my garden plants 

are in containers...

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I have treasures,

cherished photos

and ornaments that take

pride of place,

but like me they are rootless,

taken in scattered places

loaded with memories

but they are not home...

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my security must come from something else,

it cannot be specific about place

or even kin, 

to find home

I must search my heart,

to be at home 

I must rest in the unchangable love

that is only found

in the mystery

of the one who never changes

but whose infinite nature

makes him known,

and unknowable...

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I am always looking for home;

perhaps we all are...

pathway. 

My photo