Missing Home

Pictures may be worth a thousand words, but
memories are worth a million.
As the rain falls softly on desperate life,
I think of elsewhere, land of heart but
not of birth.
When the wind brings me the scent
of dampened earth,
I shiver in rememberance of
the power that stole me.
The magic that soothed me, the
caress that healed me.
The ageless hills and the misty ruins,
forever before my minds eye, coaxing
the dull ache from the depths of
memory.
The love that enveloped me, the
fairy touch that drew the words from
my stubborn pen.
The history whispered belonging.
The smell of the rain and the embrace
of the wind bring tears to my eyes.
A part of me is missing,
a part of me left behind.
Home.