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A Home Is a River

A home is a river, Flowing with joy and love. The river rushes away, Quickly like a thousand doves. I am but a sapling, under a mighty tree, My home helps me grow, with love and glee, My roots underneath are history, But my branches reach the sky, As I jump into the river, I dive into all the love. Above me, I see there is a graceful dove, As I go deeper, I see the light, Just like the stars in the darkest of night, I see a crow with a stick in her beak, But she sees a home it is what we sees, A home, it is what we seek. Homes are the thousand winds that blow, Homes are the softly falling snow, Homes are the gently shower of rain, Homes are the field of ripening grain, A home can be anything you choose A place to play, or a place to snooze. Some people are lucky to have a home, But other people don't have a home, Not even one to call their own. Maybe if we help with all our heart, Homes will be everywhere, Flowing with heart.

Aryan

Grade 5

Etobicoke, Ontario

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