My heart can not hold itself in my chest when it tumbles with such ache and yearning for the wild place my soul calls home.
I can’t breathe, I can’t see clearly, the spirit wants to rip my chest open with a scream of joy and deep deep missing for the place.
Rugged, wild, untouched, unspoilt, pure, magical and stunningly beautiful like nowhere on Earth. There are not enough adjectives to describe what my soul is experiencing when I think of my wild place. I dream of it, I crave it, I cry hard every time I think of it. Tears are of the distance, separation and also joy of knowing it, feeling it deeply in every cell of my physical body as well as being the main accord of every emotion within my emotional body. I hope and wait for a reunion every year.
It is a place I want to live and die in. I want to climb the rocks, wonder through moors, luxuriate in the greenest grassy beds aromatic with heather and buttercups and swim in the land’s lochs pure, deep, cooling and renewing to my cells.
I dream the dream in the hope that one day my soul will reunite with the land it calls home.