Making Home

It was a world not my own
With its weak red star
And its amber sky
The always cloud
And the never rain

But we’d brought our seeds
Planted our trees
Spread our grasses
Harvested the carbon
To surface the roads
To refine the fuel
To run our cars

But for a few facts
Of geology
And astronomy
It was a world
Just like home

The moment I realized this
I completely understood
That home is not a matter of place
Or familiarity
Or personal history
Or even family

Home is a place
Of commitment
An act of creation
And I could make
In the universe

Wildfire Smoke
Approaching Golden
Westbound, Trans Canada Highway
British Columbia, Canada

Taken during travels, 2017