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.
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