Here, on a windswept
high plateau, is where
I have most come
to feel at home.
This is also where the
words came to me -
in my own,
my chosen home -
and where I started
my exploration
of what it means,
to be at home.
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BEING AT HOME:
THOUGHTS
MY FATHER, MY SELF
MY CHOSEN HOME
HOME WORLD
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BEING AT HOME:POEMS plus
THOUGHTS
IN MY OWN,
MY CHOSEN HOME
SUMMER'S PASSING
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BEING AT HOME:
POEMS
IN MY OWN,
MY CHOSEN HOME
SUMMER'S PASSING
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INTERACTIVE FLASH
MUSIC VIDEO!!
SUMMER'S PASSING
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HOME IS ...
many voices
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CONTENTS - ALL
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MORE POEMS,
SPOKEN WORD,
AND SONGS
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HOME -
first version - 2006 |
HOME IS ...
All around me are the places we live in – old brick
houses, apartment blocks, highrises. But what does it mean, to be at home?
I
didn't know that question interested me until
Karen, a painter, and David, a photographer, asked me if I would like to
be part of their project. It had nothing to do with home. They were planning
to explore Quebec – “Quebec Seen” – through their
very different eyes. I would add another element, words. I wasn't
enthusiastic, but I claimed to be. Yes, wonderful, great project. Maybe
it was.
But my heart wasn't in it. At heart, I am not a
tourist. I would have to drag myself to place after place. Inside me, everything
said, “I’d rather stay home.”
My way of getting around my inner foot-dragging was to
suggest we start with a weekend at what was just beginning to become my
home, the old country place that my partner and I had bought a couple of
years before. After all, the countryside was gorgeous, and we would have
a place to stay.
Karen and David would be the first guests ever – because
for two years walls had been coming down, plaster dust was everywhere,
windows were changed in mid-winter, the furniture was protected under thick
layers of plastic. Philippe, my partner, was off somewhere traveling for
work.
I spent eight hours setting up the living room.
That weekend, David photographed and Karen sketched. I
could not make myself do what I was supposed to do – experience the
landscape and express this experience.
But a couple of days later, alone, watching the autumn
morning from inside my home, I heard the words, "in my own, my chosen
home," inside my head.
That’s where it all started for me, my exploration
of what it means to be at home.
I
sat down and wrote, walked from room to room and wrote.
The words came and came.
copyright © Elsa Schieder 2006, 2011,
all rights reserved
publishing house -
FlufferDuff Impressions 2006, 2011
June 1, 2011
Time goes on. The poem on this page is a bit different from what I originally wrote - we has been replaced by I. But the love of this place continues. Maybe someday there will be another we.
copyright © Elsa Schieder 2011,
all rights reserved
Click here for the
original version
of this poem about more
than happiness,
about a deep sense
of home-coming.
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contact your
thoughts what
home means to you
The impetus for the poem goes back to childhood.
Click here for father and daughter stories,
starting with a father who never seemed to feel at home,
except in his imaginings, his longings, his dreams.
Poems about happiness, happiness poems -
so many possibilities.
Click here for Summer's Passing -
early evening, late summer -
happiness - feeling summer passing.
To go to only
In My Own, My Chosen Home,
a poem about deep happiness,
click here.
top of page
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Poems about Happiness, Happiness Poems.
in my own, my chosen home, I've come to rest.
Poems About Home, Happy Poems, Happiness Poetry.
all alone, yet cozy, and large, inviting in ...
All around are
the places we live in.
But what does it mean, to be at home?
My father never felt at home.
In my own, my chosen home -
explorations, reflections, word pieces
on the sense of home.
________________________
poems about happiness, about finding a home place -
happiness poems about a home space -
happiness growing, flowing into happy poem, into happiness poetry -
chosen home, forever at home - the happiness of being at home -
all flowing into happiness poetry, poems about happiness -
happiness and joy, contentment and more -
a happy poem a day keeps the doctor away,
no matter how humble there's no place like home,
poems about happiness, poems about joy,
home home on the range where the deer and the antelope play,
poems overflowing from the fullness of life,
___________________
Happiness Poems. Poems about Happiness.
In my own, my chosen home,
on a high plateau, all alone,
yet cozy, a nest, I've come to rest,
I feel blessed.
Happiness Poem. Happy Poem.
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