I'm home.
Home is wherever the bed is. If you, like I, are a nomadic gypsy of sorts.
I find myself back in Croatia. A place, my grandparents place, where I spent the age of four to six living.
Since leaving the country I've been back numerous times.
Not enough to call it home. It isn't my permanent home. Nonetheless, my soul feels at home.
I shall admit, this is not the only place my heart feels settled..and at the same time.. a place where I will not settle.
A calmness has crept into my mind. A familiarity which I struggle to explain. The candour of what I am saying is only known to those who have, after many years, returned home.
Home is where the bed is.
Sure, I do, and will, attest to that.
Home is where our soul has rooted. Not limited by time, nor space.
Only the connections which we alone know, can make it what it is.
