Borrowed Family

ivane tensaie

greeted with a hug from Oma at the door.

a foreigner

to these occasions, where comfort doesn’t need to be sought after.

It’s just there.

sparking my gratitude, that what was always meant to be, now

is

a circle of laughter, passing insults across the room, the boys fixated on 

the ball being run across the screen, as we share secrets on the couch.

These people, called

Home.

with the capacity for generous love, that

grips me tightly

and unwrapping this gift, that says

adopted.

by their Father

and Whose children have become, 

a second family.

that often feels like, 

a first home.