The heart like a bird in flight, wings spread
to every wind. Every flight, in its search
finds a perch, some place of rest or lasting help,
sometimes caravan, sometimes nest, sometimes
a grave in the open earth. Somewhere in time
someone is digging in or moving on, between
home and the call of elsewhere.
to every wind. Every flight, in its search
finds a perch, some place of rest or lasting help,
sometimes caravan, sometimes nest, sometimes
a grave in the open earth. Somewhere in time
someone is digging in or moving on, between
home and the call of elsewhere.
Enjoy the rest here:
- Ikhide
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