Somewhere along the way, the idea of home shifted,
Without fully realising it, I feel different,
At peace, calm
I can find it within, even if only fleetingly.
Looking out of an airplane window,
In a new bed, in a new room, in a strange city.
I found it in my inkpots arranged in a line on a new table,
In my trinkets clinking on my bag,
In my old journal on a new bedside table,
In the ritual of unpacking,
Piling clothes in a cupboard,
Lining bath products on the sink,
Arranging books on the bookshelf,
Finding a new routine,
A new grocery store,
Cooking on a new stove.
These new habits I will build,
This person I will try to be,
Live more simply,
More true, more honest.
Is this the allure of nomads?