At Home

listening to the rustling of leaves beneath

and the chatter of little minds, busy at work and play

marvelling at the red hues of the trees

and the violet carpet of some more in the distance

stopping to experience the fragrance of new flowers

and the smell of fresh rain on sandy pathways

tracing the flight of wings amidst lush trees

and the melodies of others in the background

feeling the rush of water across smooth rocks

and the texture of woven thread in ones hands

celebrating every discovery that each little hand makes

and every idea that germinates in each little head

laughing at the utterances of voices finding themselves

and challenging beliefs one did not realise one had

wondering at the limitations of the past

and creating new memories each day, alongside

reflecting on the joy of not having all the answers

and feeling liberated at this discovery

discovering the beauty of imperfection without

and finding that it is equally imperfect within

basking in the knowledge of being enough

and the power of making a difference to little lives

seeking questions unbeknownst to oneself

and finding answers to those one was never taught to ask

wandering along unfamiliar, unexplored trails

and feeling at home always, every day

Vipula