The wind it moves -
unwinds me.
Embracing me,
it takes me.
I allow it
to shape me.
I am carried,
by its form.
I arrive now,
Light, as a
tired feather.
I am home.
I arrive there,
where I go,
effortlessly,
Always home.
There is wind in
the soul, it
sings like it knows,
Where is home.
The sound, it makes,
the shadow,
it breaks into,
A thousand homes.
Yes, I am home.
Howling or,
Still, I am here.
Moving, home.
Home is where the
wind is, yes!
Where the wind is.
I feel it.
Send me away,
back to my
Home in the wind.
Home in the wind.
About the Creator
Maria Garcia
Connecting through storytelling
Writer // Psychologist // Teacher // Singer
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More stories from Maria Garcia and writers in Poets and other communities.
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