It’s homecoming.

I feel-like going home;
What my new home is like?
What is there in
that I do not like?
I feel-like going home.

It’s in the rush of life
I go quiet.
In the presence of my likes
I am but a kid;
Put in the midst of opulence.

I don’t know what I have done
as not to be what I had been.
Could that be a kind of luck
Or some favours that come by chance?
This home homing could but be
A “come full circle”,
‘it has been a long way already
and you have no way to go pursuing’.
The way I have at hand
is but my new way home.
Must be. I believe so.
Even if it’s not,
still I love to believe so.

This homecoming is
What I have been after.
I did never pray,
nor did I complain.
What I did utmost was
‘I stayed constant’.
Again and again I asked,
“Do I do what I should?”
Or “I do things the way they come by?”
I don’t know why
some questions defy
Answers that look
Really very close by?

Now I feel,
when I feel like going home,
that it’s true to all.
No matter where you come from.
It’s home that makes you one.
It’s the same that gives you your room.