The desire to go home that is a desire to be whole, to know where you are, to be the point of intersection of all the lines drawn through all the stars, to be the constellation-maker and the center of the world, that center called love. To awaken from sleep, to rest from awakening, to tame the animal, to let the soul go wild, to shelter in darkness and blaze with light, to cease to speak and be perfectly understood.
Flowers open every night
across the sky, a breathing peace,
and sudden flame catching.
A garden of love grows in a grandmother’s heart. ~Author Unknown
Come to the woods, for here is rest. There is no repose like that of the green deep woods.
~ John Muir