He is the tumultuous ocean,
The twisting, rolling sea
That feigns a certain gentleness
Until its rage breaks free

So vast and so unending
And limitless in worth
I took him once for granted
As I wandered through the surf.

Without the tumulus ocean
Without its rolling seas
Without the tide that tosses me
And never sets me free

The arid, fallow earth would crack
Beneath my burning feet
Reminding me of which I lost
And dried up with the heat

But salt leaves me to languish
No sweetness he can quench
Time will only tell from here
If love can fill this trench.

What* is a home

If it is a place, is it the place where you were born?
Or would it be the place, you are staying now?
Does it move away, when your thoughts are littered by the wind?
Or is it their guide to safely return back, when their journey ends?

What is a home

If it is a someone, is it the one staying closest by your side?
Or is it the one your heart is longing at night?
Can you move it safely from someone to another one?
Or will it break even when touched most careful?

What is a home

If it is a time, is it the one you are facing?
Or the one fading from your happiest memories?
Would you risk a glimpse into it's hideout in your future?
Or would you rather live in it now?  

What is a home

If it is yourself, would it be your body?
Or would it be the place where all your dreams reside?
Does it vanish into dust, when your last breath of life is given?
Or does it still exist somewhere?