The belly of the catapult

Home is a wanderer’s desire
Or ever recurring nightmare.

Home is root and seed
And beginning and end
To every life story.

Home is mother’s love
And or father’s aura.

Home is a web or a blanket
Or a bank of fear or hope.

Home is the roof that separates
You and the hot, scorching sun.

Home is the belly of the catapult
And the stone’s final stop.