Where do you call home?

Where do you call home?

I do not call anywhere home.

It calls me.

The calls echo constantly.

Made from hundreds of voices of the people I love.

Spread across the vastness of our world.

The people that bind me to a sliver of earth.

Nowhere is my home.

Everywhere is my home.

A traveller since the womb.

I feel more at home in a plane than on dry land.

Likely because I know I will hear my calling again.

The calling to leave as much as it calls me to stay.

Torn in many ways, never quite whole.

Though I will never choose to be whole.

That would mean someone has stopped calling for me.

Home is where I am called to go.