Come home to the sea,
where it’s brittle but free,
and the air tastes like salt,
and the air tastes like salt.
Come home to the mountains,
where sunrises fill your heart,
and the air tastes like snow,
and the air tastes like snow.
Come home to the house,
that you knew when you were young,
there, the air smells of bread,
there, the air smells of bread.
Come home to your dreams,
that fill with boats, and stars and clouds,
where the air smells of smoke,
where the air smells of smoke.
Come home to your heart,
where it all lives,
where the air is love,
where the air is love.
#11 healing poetry; where the air is love
