For All my Wandering Years

I Ask...

for all my wandering years
i ask 
where is home?
it's not here
not there 
nor the silent space of closed doors 
and sealed walls
or the solitude of my mind and thoughts
home is not the windy trail
of the endless road that goes 
and goes
home is where there's love
because love is home

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Far away places of painted earth, are beautiful, but alone they're nothing without love.

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Writing prompt

Who loves you, and who do you love?

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