Wandering Hills of the Heart

Fulfilled and content in a dream with living creatures.

Roaming the wandering hills on an endless series of
unknown pathways through darkness with no sight of light.

Going forward through them because you need something new.

When the face gives away how broken you are despite
projecting the most imagined happiness.

It is because of the cold, because of the struggle to free the mind.

The aching to satisfy the heart with only what you have inside,
and what you can find hidden in the night sky when  you think
no one else is looking.

When the blisters on the toes burst,

When everything breaks again and you curse,

just when you think it can't get worse.

It is then you realize the beauty, the magic,

then endless whispering hills calling you forward,

calling you out of your den, into the eternal land

of the dreaming mind and the giving heart of Gaia.

Home is not a place to go back to but a state of the heart found in travel.

-Ed Tajchman