Where My Heart Is From

I spent my day by the sea and the trees,

letting the tide unbraid my thoughts,

letting the branches whisper truths

I had forgotten to remember.

The wind moved through me like an old friend,

calling me by a name I haven’t spoken aloud

since childhood

a name made of salt,

of breath,

of beginnings.

Now my only dream is simple and vast:

to dwell among the wind,

to let it carve me into something lighter,

truer,

more sky than sorrow.

To rise

like the eagles who know no hesitation,

who trust the invisible hands that hold them.

To soar past the firmament,

beyond the blue veil,

into the pleroma

that quiet, luminous home

where my heart was first shaped

from silence and star‑dust.

All I want now

is to return to that place

where the sea remembers me,

where the trees call me hermana,

where the wind knows my story

before I speak it.

All I want

is to go back

to where my heart is from.

Giuliana