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Something Like Home

No stage lights today. Just a quiet room, small socks on the floor, and the sound of Shivani humming something off-key in the hallway. Sylus is already outside, chasing clouds with a paper plane.

We’ve been speaking to the media lately. They ask about the tour, the new songs, what comes next. I try to answer, but there are some things that don’t translate into words.

Like mornings like this.

First, it was me and JK. Two people trying to make something honest out of everything we’d seen. Then Raven arrived — like punctuation we didn’t know we needed. Something still and grounding.

Now there are four shoes at the door. Two names we say a hundred times a day. Three of us trying to raise something gentle in a world that rarely is.

We didn’t plan it. Not like this. But it’s better that way.

We take turns when the kids wake up at night. We leave the piano open just in case a melody shows up. We laugh more than we used to.

And when people ask what changed, I want to say
Everything. Quietly.

Maybe this isn’t a song.
Maybe it’s what comes after.
Something soft. Something steady.
Something like home.