Someone once said to me,
Home is where the heart is,
It seemed sappy, not quite true.
My cynicism bristled against the sentiment,
Aching to eat it whole,
Dine upon its bones.
Nowhere was home,
Wanderlust kept me moving.
Unanchored, unmoored and forever flowing,
Wherever I wanted to roam.
Was my very temporary home.
Until that day I met you
Then I wanted to settle down,
Feel I had roots as strong as the tallest tree.
Sedentary, unmoving, and growing,
No longer moving on, unless moving on together.