Home is in the heart, where it starts no one knows.
It doesn't roam with the wind or change with the name that you claim.
It may not be the raising place or the
familiar face greeting you day to day.
Independence or dependence does not hold it's reflection.
Cosy cottage on a sea of glass tranquility.
You're eighteen and free to search and roam
through fits of endless restlessness.
Choices, choices- the car, the plane, the train taking you away.
Still no peace, right or wrong, still no release.
Try a change, seize the day,
Still the chains tie you to the earth.
Joyous pain, hope and hurt again. Run away, run away.
Yet, where it ends is plain, the way clearly marked.
With all the the heart survives
It still never comes home until it dies.
An interesting read,thankyou for sharing!
ReplyDeleteMy fav:"Joyous pain,hope and hurt again.Run away,run away.Yet,where it ends is plain,the way clearly marked."
Hello Lydia,
ReplyDeleteThousand thanks for your entry and which you divide him with us. I find him very nice and he indicates to me, for example as our life is here on the earth and which feels our heart only properly home when we are in the eternity. It is really wonderful. Thousand thanks!
My fav: "With all the the heart survives
It still never comes home until it dies."