Home is

Home is Home is a joyful, amazing place where my family is. Home is like a Mexico shore, watching the tide slowly move as people are waking up to the soothing sound of the ocean waves. I can feel that I’m home. Seeing the soft black fur of my dog scattered everywhere and her big fluffy tail brushing against my legs, I can see that I’m home. Smelling the fresh banana bread, and delicious homemade chocolate cookies, I can smell it as soon as I walk through the front door, I can smell that I’m home Taking that first bite of sushi its cultural and tasty, and trying a spoonful of wasabi that always leaves me to tears from the spice of the root, and the strong taste of ginger. I can taste that I’m home. Hearing a fresh conversation turning into reality and a spicy argument from just above the stairs. I can hear the arguments; I can hear that I’m home. Home feels like fresh polished wood with little engravings among the wood, and sometimes it feels like a big soft pillow. Home feels like a warm cozy hug wrapping you up and taking away all your fears, some people call it a house, but I call it my home.