I don't know if you get this,
But I get recurring dreams of places from my past And my present.
Sometimes I see the future too.., Specks of it
With Whispers from the winds;
The feminine The masculine.
An illusion of comfort.
Home is in the Wind that brings us news.
It's in the Waters that cleanse us,
The Earth, that feeds us.
And Fire, that burns our passions.
Home is in Nature
Poetry written by