my home:

coming back to it, i feel it embrace me like a long-lost family member.
i can almost hear it say, welcome home, my dear, let me hold you in my arms.
and as i lie about the place, it lulls me into a sleep.
as if to share its dreams, hopes and history with me, once again
to the realm where our perceptions of reality breaks down, fades away.
and i can almost hear the whispers of my home, the stories that yearn to be told.
it's almost as if it throbs with a consciousness. it waits and it sees. it listens.
a pulse. almost alive. i forget it's brick, plaster, wood and glass.
don't you feel it, my friends?