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.

Explosive Spirit