Your Home

I stand on a cliff,
Holding the remnants of an hourglass
The waves coming from afar,
Slaps the edge.
It's screaming
The names of the world
Lost in time,
Like the voice
From the deepest place of my heart

Standing here,
I raise my hands
Toward the infinite heaven
I sing a song
As the wind blows
To take the sands
Away from my palm.
I pray for the wind
To send it to you.
When it blows from the north,
Though from another direction,
It returns again.
The ocean may wash everything away
Still, it gives back
All that was taken
From the land.

Like the land
That awaits for her lover, the sea,
These hands reach out
To the unseen thread
That binds our soul;
Holding on to just one thing –
Memories…

Even the river that has dried out
Comes back again
As rain from the sky.
And even flowers
Bloom in quiet night,
Waiting for a passer-by.
Even the forest holds on
To the fleeting image of a child.

So, my dearest,
Like the breeze,
Return to the place
Where longing seems no end.
Cross the vast, blue ocean
And set-off on a voyage
Against the tide.

I keep singing,
Wishing that when my song ends,
You'll come back to me
For you are my home
As I am to you...