Home Is Where the Heart Is

Where do you come from? I crossed parched deserts, climbed rugged mountains, gazed at steep canyons, ford a few fast raging streams, flew over dark storm clouds where eagles never dared, gusts blowing on my ears with each story they bared. What place do you call home? I have been all over the world, either real or in my mind, giving way to this wanderlust, surrendering to the wind; I went to places where mythical goddesses once lived ere coming to a spot where the real God was revealed. Are you from the Far East? When I was younger I saw the far corners of America and before I die I dream to be on safari in dark Africa; just to behold the majestic Sphinx and the Pyramids sums up all the experiences much more than I need. Man, you are not answering my questions! Oh yes, I heard you alright but you were not listening. Home, my friend, is not a boundary, locality or a place, you cannot find it on a map but on some stranger's face; home is a state of mind, anything that you want it to be, home is where the heart is is what this rover has to say.