Come Home To The Wilds

In the cacophony of the busy city

Its relentless heat trapped by the concrete.

She feels the soft winds of the wild lands

The kiss of rain on her face.

In the bars and smell of stale lives

She hears the noisy impatience of traffic

She will return to its sirens

The cry of the eagle in a clear sky

Mountain rains pure as nectar

Free winds blowing her hair

Breaking waves of the sea on the rocks

Calls of mother earth

to return to her bosom.

Always in her ears.

Always in her heart.

Come home to the wilds