A voice spoke deep inside crossing that borderline

The wind creeped below the shell of my soul to settle for which unknown

A quiet mystery penetrates the soul

Fields flowing to and fro, calling calling calling

Reaching out so hard and fast I knew not a name to be called

The longing had begun, a call to rest the weary soul

Home, home, home how can this be

A strange land to the eyes behold having not stepped before

I look one flight to my eyes a wonder

Gently rolling hills of grass and trees

Sharp crevices etched upon thee

Post after post, intertwined with barbwire

What do I see before me, calling my name calling calling

Home home home how can this be

The richness of the beauty bringing longing to thy soul

Simple and quaint marked by time,

Unmarked in the ageless flight of life

Strong backs behold here is the place

Where solid folks rest their make

Against sun worn days of toil and trouble

Solid in their stance of what is has always been

And forever shall be

Life in the towns, pastures and plains to see

Lasting into eternity

Calling my name again to be alive for times of solid lines

Hold strong to the past moving gently forward

Strong I will need to remove the citified appendages,

The anger of the crowd and lost souls encountered

Strength comes from that which is solid and fertile

A tree cannot grow in cemented ground

Wide open spaces and fertile ground to spread and nourish

Here is where I call my home

It called me over and over set your roots to be planted

Tend gently in fertile ground, solid footings will be found

I will heal, and I will hurt but I will heal again

For it is calling unto my soul this is the land, this is the place

And it is ready to undo what is wrong

A whole lot of toil to nourish the loss

Home home home this is how it be