Poetry

Hearth

In two homes.


My heart got divided between two lands.
One cool and breezy, with amber instead of gold.
The other—hot and vibrant, healing to my soul.

Away from cold winters, I lived in bliss.
Warm and well-fed with flavours of the world.
I’ve made a home there, thinking never to return.

But echoes came from the so familiar woods.
A call from the wild trees and beautiful meadows.
Hearth built in my dreams emerged from the shadows.

Piercing the cloudy skies, a white bird carried me back.
With few answers and goodbyes, I was gone.
A hearth in my heart; I’ll never rest until it’s done.

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