Book of Eucalypt

Homecoming
(C) BookofEucalypt.com

I feel a calling –
as though a memory unlocked,
stirring through my bones.
Across the land, over rivers and creeks
I hear a familiar voice
beckoning me to come home.

I close my eyes and I let her in.
For a moment, the line between worlds blurs;
a heartbeat passes,
and my toes sink into her soft grains.
The land hums, the waves crash,
and my soul aches to dance upon her.

Her spirits – white horses,
wild and bright-eyed, running that line
between the land, sea and sky;
race up the shore,
I drift down her river to meet them.

Their rhythm matches the heartbeat of the land,
that same pulse I once knew
when I was hers.

She calls to me –
a low sound that curls around my ribs
and reminds me who I was:
foam, breath and sky,
a child of water and wind.

I am enveloped,
consumed,
rushed upon by the salt
that cries to run through my veins again.
This land reminders,
waiting for me to find my way back.

I throw my hands to the sky
and call to the power that I have left upon this land –
through moon cycles,
sun cycles,
through the ages and names I once called myself.

Hail to the South, the Bass Strait before me,
the exhalation of the earth beneath my feet
and the wind that has
carried me home…