Shrouded Expectations.

 

 

Expectations in

a shroud; ready to be laid

to rest - broken heart

 

 

 

Written for: Haiku Hearts on the prompt, SHROUD.



Home

 

 

 

Our final abode

At the end of each day and

of Life - Home sweet home

 

 

 

Home is a place where we head to at the end of each tiring day. It welcomes us with open arms every time we go to it and embraces us with its warmth and comfort shoving away the exhaustion and fatigue of the day. Home is also the place from where we begin our day. In other words, home is the place where we are born everyday (rising from sleep each morning) and it is the place where we half-die each night (sleep is half-death, right?).
 

The home in this world, a building of bricks and cement, is a temporary one. What is the permanent one, then? It is that place from where we sprang into existence and to which we return at the end of Life. This is what I feel. There has to be a place from where we came and to which we will return. This world is a journey. All of us are travelling and searching for our home simultaneously. There are times when we feel different. We feel like we don't belong here. The world is just not the place for us. But then, there isn't any place to which we've been other than this world, is there? Yet, this feeling does exist. And come to analyse it a bit, it is no different from the feeling of home-sickness. We are in our home (the world), then how is it even possible to feel home-sickness of this sort? The only rational (maybe not completely) explanation is that there is a place other than this world which transcends time and space and it is for this place that we feel home-sick.
 

This is the place we were residing in before we came into this world and this is the place to which we will return after we leave this world.
 

Our Final Abode.

Our Home Sweet Home.

 

 

Written for: Haiku Heights on the prompt HOME.