May you always find your way home

 May your home always feel like home,

so that you never need to take shelter in the cracks—

and when you do,

may you grow like a wallflower, quiet and intentional,

not like a weed fighting for a place that was never meant for you.

May you never confuse noise for belonging,

or attention for love.

May you never sit in a bus with teary eyes,

watching familiar streets blur into something distant,

wishing you didn’t have to leave at all.

May a completely new and strange path

never feel kinder than the road that leads you home.

And when things grow heavier than your hands can hold,

may you always have somewhere to set them down—

a place, a person, a pause

that does not ask you to be strong all the time.

May you never have to carry storms alone,

and if you ever find yourself drenched in one,

may there be a shelter that opens without hesitation,

without conditions,

without making you feel like you owe your survival to it.

May you never have to choose escape over return,

never find comfort in running away

more than in staying.

May your goodbyes be gentle and temporary,

never heavy with the fear of not coming back.

May your departures feel like pauses,

not endings.

May there always be a light left on for you somewhere,

even on the nights you feel the most lost.

May there be a voice that softens when it says your name,

reminding you that you belong without having to prove it.

May those eyes never lie to you—

the ones you trust, the ones you search for in crowded rooms.

May they always hold honesty, even when it is hard,

even when the truth trembles.

May you never have to second-guess the warmth you feel,

never wonder if love is real or rehearsed

And in the end,

may you always find your way back—

not just to a place,

but to a feeling,

a quiet certainty

that you are safe, you are wanted,

and you never had to earn your way home.

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