The word called home is
Like a dimension of existence
where i spring from to represent
where I come from

A place where I am nestled
in my mother's warmth of
originality and transparency.
In it, I find comfort at
the verge of confusion

A place where I not only feel
secured but also feel support
from those who makes it to
be called a home

A place where every moments
spent are memories to be shared
as the playtime and laughter that
prompt mother's scolding is like an
echo as though it felt like yesterday

In pursuit for promotive change,
I wriggle out of mother's warmth and not words
to experience the complexities of changes
and all that it entails

Adapting to this change, I turn again home
to discover that the longed home
of shared memories is no longer cherished
As playmates are now housemates

A place where I find comfort is
now where I am not comfortable in
because of the known- stranger of
same origin

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