Home

I am at home 

where the sea shimmers,

mountains scrape the sky

or sand dunes shift 

across the earth.

My soul was a bird once

do birds have homes like we do?

a fixed sense of place

perhaps an aroma, a memory,

a history.

Could “home” also rest

in movement,

the breeze on my face

and an abiding sense 

of peace?

Home can be carried

everywhere;

we hold the balance

between wind, water and earth

in open palms.

Jennifer Rice

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