The soul knows where it belongs It belongs where it is.
The body is unlearned, never fully at home
But the winds know
They bring us to where we need to be
They conspire to move us
If we listen, they will tell us great secrets
And we will know.
Scars become signposts
The talisman of a journey we chose
Alas, most times, we cannot listen
Truth is uncomfortable
Sitting in it feels impossible
Until they conspire again
And we find ourselves here.