Here.
Quietly, then all at once
Her voices and touches arise.
Smiling bright as smooth sunshine,
I lift up my nose to the breeze.

Childhood hides among the brambles
Laughter peeks from under each stone
The trail hums with life.
Walking, gliding through the brush
Playing peek-a-boo with the path,
I embrace Her like an old lover and teacher,
For it was here
In the shade of figs and acorns
That I learned I could soar.

Here.
Where beetles mate and ants labor
Where crackle-leaves dissolve and the soil exhales warmth
Where field mice scurry and fledglings learn to fly.

Even on another continent,
Her caress is familiar.
It is the one of thorn bushes and wildflowers and weeds.
It is the stumble-over-stones
And the ear-tickling-buzz of the bees.

Here.
I know I am Home.