Serenity permeates through the rustle of olive leaves:
This vista a sea of green eternity
fecund despite incessant aridity,
lustrous in its rusticity.
This vantage burrows deep,
nourishing roots—
This earth is of you, and you of it.
Bones ache in recognition
seeking reunion with ancestral dust:
A call to harken home,
set aside the odyssey
and reclaim the olive song
chorusing a crescendo in the blood.
This transient hearthstone,
perennially in limbo,
settles familiarly within the loam,
sinking slowly back home.
