Home, just one word, but so much more.
Home means swings that softly creak when you sit on their sun-cracked seats and welcoming woods that sing when their oldest treasures have been discovered. It means independence, hidden from the world. A safe haven.
Home are those tired trees from forgotten winters, it's that growing pasture constantly cut by the grazing horses. Animals that beg for your attention whether you want to give it or not. It is those nights spent outside by the fire watching the smoke and embers floating towards the sparkling stars and dreams of more. It is brick atop brick of subtle, but elegant, beauty that seems to only be seen by the brown and green eyes that have been gifted to me.
My home holds my heart so that I will always be welcomed back with open arms and unjudging eyes.
