The Soul of a Home

The Soul of a Home

A home is not just a structure of bricks and stone,
It breathes — not with air, but with a soul of its own.
Each wall has a heartbeat hidden inside,
Each sound echoes where memories reside.

Laughter and tears are never small,
The sleepless memories don't rest at all.
In the warmth of tea and midnight air,
Silent memories hum their prayer.

Time has left its marks on doors,
Steps remember moments from before.
The kitchen still holds the scent of the past,
Moments return — quiet, but steadfast.

Even when opened, it holds an unread silence,
Yet within, flows a melody’s cadence.
The windows weep, the garden sighs,
Lonely nights sing love that never dies.

The body ages, bends with time’s tide,
But the heart holds firm on the inside.
New laughter may light up the day,
Yet old faith never fades away.

This is no house — it is a being alone,
The silent witness to bonds long grown.
Life circles here, never strays too far,
Enduring all — as evening's quiet star.

GR kaviyoor 
11 06 2025

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