the up & down of moving

house to home, and back again

a house becomes a home, as it’s lived-in and loved,
 
 
 

and the, a home becomes a house when it’s time to move,
 



 
there’s a totality, a wholeness when a family makes a home
and the shell becomes a fertile egg only when there’s life inside it,
memory after memory come to ghost the things, the rooms,
with echoes of what we did and how we were who we are,
transitions are messy, as is every creation,

in a move, boxes and stuff clutter chore after chore,
each item on a list seems to sprout another list below it,
and another,
and another,
like nested dolls,

it’s all so exciting,
both in the upside with newness and hope,
and the downside with anxiousness and fear,

a new house can grow into a home,
yet, like all transitions, the birth is work.

by Henry H. Walker
June 25, ’12