I’m going back to the place,
where the gulfs are are rolling down onto the shore
and seasalt is lingering on my face.
I’m going back to the place where I can see the reflection of the sea in the mirror from those tiny beach houses,
I’m going back to the place that still feels like home,
The pine forest with that safety that never makes me feel alone,
The taste of wonderfully riped blackberries,
The sound of moving dune grass,
The sight of purple flowers during springtime;
I could admire them for hours.
Raindrops falling onto green leaves,
Those hiking trails.
I’m going back to the place that makes me smile..