My Home
"The forests are my bones"
I was born without a home
On the forest floor I grew up
I was named by the wind
it's soft whispering and the music it plays is the song of my people,my mother tongue
I know ever inch of its earth
the forest has become my home, my solitude,
its streams are my veins
its roots my bones
its vines are extensions of my arms,
when I swing along them I feel at home
I spend my days dancing with the wind
painting with the sunsets
I compose symphonies with the creatures of my woods
the forest is my home
from it I was born
and in it I live,I thrive
to it I will one day return
and from my decaying remains
another will be born
to be named by the wind
and entertained by wolves
I was born without a home I thought
but this is not true
my home is all around me
its beauty bright in its hue
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