The Anchored Soul

To me, home is far more than mortar and stone; it is a sacred sanctuary where the quiet rhythm of belonging acts as an anchor against the gale, turning the shadows of the world into a lasting, steady light. It is not merely mortar, beam, and stone, That defines the sacred space I call my own. It is the quiet rhythm of the door, The familiar echo on the hardwood floor. Home is the anchor in the shifting gale, The harbour where the weary spirit rests its sail. It is the heart that glows against the night, Turning fleeting shadows into lasting light. A sanctuary built of love and care, The quiet, steady grace of being there.