Home Is Where The Heart Is

In the memory of trees…

A smell of warm cedar whispering in the breeze, a muted murmuring from the river who says quietly,

       “Shhhhh.”

Warm black earth snuggling with green mossy beds,

 Contours of the forest softened and smooth,

Cradling mushrooms and trilliums in handfuls,

Muddy feet bathing, in spring puddles,

Before putting your shoes back on…

 

 

 

In the memory of waves…

Scenting salt and spice, alluring and tangible to the senses, as the ocean in the distance,

Breathes.

Red volcanic clay, jostling with sea shell beaches,

Palm trees and jasmine vine, prickly keawe dells,

With the songs of a hundred beautiful island birds,

Blooming in the boughs like flowers, calling to your heart,

And leaving sandy sandles, by the back door…

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