home.

I: Why not take the shorter way home.
HT: There is no shorter way home.
Anne Carson, Men in the Off Hours, “Interview with Hara Tamiki (1950)”

To ask “Where is home?” as if there is one answer. To write home in a poem, like a poem could be a home—is this happy or sad?
Chen Chen, Craft Capsule: On Becoming a Pop Star, I Mean, a Poet

Home isn’t Mom and Dad and Sis and Bud. Home isn’t where they have to let you in. It’s not a place at all. Home is imaginary. Home, imagined, comes to be. It is real, realer than any other place, but you can’t get to it unless your people show you how to imagine it—whoever your people are. They may not be your relatives. They may never have spoken your language. They may have been dead for a thousand years. They may be nothing but words printed on paper, ghosts of voices, shadows of minds. But they can guide you home. They are your human community.
Ursula K. Le Guin, Words Are My Matter (2016)