You asked me once what keeps me
Returning home, time and again
What I love about this place 

I asked you 
What do you hear?

We paused to listen to the
Whispering quit of nature

You answered -nothing, I 
hear nothing at all-

That is why you will never 
Understand how I love this
Place, or how it is in my bones
I hear the sounds of the world,
Wind, trees, the very breath of 
God himself, but you hear nothing