Hearthwood

Here I find peace
and reconnect with roots
older than I can dream.

Here, time loosens its grip,
and only presence truly means a thing.

I step into the stillness,
asking for permission to enter.
I whisper:
“I mean no harm,
I’m just a wanderer, lost from her path.”

As I step forward,
I sense a presence filling the air
and know something ancient is near.
A gentle wind caresses my back,
whispering in my ear,
“Welcome in, dear.”

Here,
every step offers a new beginning.
Every breath a new way of being.

I lay my palm against the skin of a pine,
ask it kindly to guide my mind.

And can almost feel the quiet,
gentle heartbeat beneath the bark —
the pulse of something ancient,
flowing through my veins,
filling my mind with
whispers of wisdom,
kindness,
and grace.

This place
will always be
home.