a thousand miles from my front door
I’m farthest from any
comfort-zoned concept
of home
we’re drinking, clinking
celebrating the future of everything
eulogizing the last twenty-some years
of figuring it out and miraculously
ending up here
I wonder how explorers felt
when their feet planted on unchartered land
and realized that
home is anywhere you make it so
elleguyence 
How did explorers feel, the same? A beautiful poem with some deep thoughts. Explorers a thousand miles from home felt exactly the same. Elle, you’ve captured something that many of us, including explorers, have felt. In a way, we’re all explorers.
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Reblogged this on davidbruceblog #2.
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Content?
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Home, to me, has always been where my family is. My wife, my children, when they were young. Not necessarily brothers or sisters or father’s or mothers,but the family I chose and helped to create. In this case my home has been in many states and many countries. I have often longed to go home to Singapore, California, and England; just to name a few.
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Life has a tendency for the unexpected and your poem captures this so well. I am the child of immigrants and have been on the move all my life. Home is wherever you feel safe and loved.
Elle, I’d like to invite you to participate in the Community Poem on my blog at http://www.purplehermit.com. All you need to do is contribute one line in response to the opening line, more details on my post. Hope you will join us.
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Very nice!
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Very true words
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I like to believe home is what is dearly held at my inner core that I can fill any place I go with my own natural warmth to find welcome and comfort. ❤️😊 Happy Thanksgiving Elle!
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I love this concept so much! As a third culture kid, I’ve spent a lot of time dwelling on the idea that I can choose where I make my home, and you summed it up so well here.
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