A Place called Home

I long to be home,
where the land,
is covered with green trees,
where the mountaintops
are decked with snows,
where cold wind
that flutter the prayer flags,
blows on the face,
where people sit
around fireplaces,
with warm smiles
and sparkling eyes,
joys spreading around
like the eagle’s wings.

I long to be home,
where the rivers are clean and clear,
where the sky’s blue and vast,
where the air’s cool and fresh.

I long to be home,
listening to silence,
wanting nothing,
feeling complete.

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