His soft eyes are
full of compassion and so much love to offer.
He wasn’t afraid to break down and cry
when the moment and situation called for it.
His eyes expressed one thing right from the start,
“Welcome home.”
Sometimes it’s okay not to be okay.

His arms, at the airport
when he wrapped me in an embrace
whispered to my heart, “Welcome home.”
Ever since then, his arms have sheltered me
from many a great storm.
We communicated with pure emotions
restoring the dignity of their essence
without reducing it to mere meaningless words.
That’s when I realized sometimes home is
two arms with a heartbeat.

His fingers entwined into mine
spaces in between, it’s a perfect fit.
The last piece of the puzzle,
It became home,
This is where I belong
filling in the spaces between your fingers
‘’Welcome home.”

The way his mirthful off-tone voice
greets me every time over the phone.
How he can’t sing to save his life.
I knew I was home….
‘’Welcome home.”

Home is not a place it’s a feeling.
And it’s the way you make me feel,
takes my breath away.
It’s as simple as that.
“Welcome home.”

j.r.m©