Homecoming

You have come back to me,
even after years of neglect and taking,
bruising and aching,
I have been here waiting.

The old ones whispered of this day —
that the wandering hearts
would find their way
through moss and hay,
back to claim their place
in natures everlasting chain.

And finally,
their noise turns softer,
their pace slows to listen.

There is no need to ask forgiveness —
even if I would deserve it.
My soil keeps no grudges,
the trees don't count the wounds.
All that matters,
was that you found your way home.

Rest now.
Breathe.
The earth remembers your weight,
the air your breath,
the roots your name.

You are home.