Destined To Home Destined to a place Of spartan trees And spires that pierce clouds Where history's dream Built the brick we live And streets we breathe I am going where the river flows Endless and ignorant To currents of change I may arrive With intent to leave Though may not return I may lay the foundation Of future dreams And breathe those streets Of unsullied memories Warmed by earth Cast to brick Trapped in the comfort Of a place new, unknown But forever home
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How did we end up where we are...we may have been born here and never left. We may have been born here, left and returned.
Or, as in my case, been born elsewhere, travelled and lived in many place, but gravitated always back to the place that was at first alien, but now is resolutley comfortable and most definitely home.
