Knowing
I know just how your heart aches.
And for your sake, I hope it aches a little less.

I know how you miss those fields.

I know how you miss the night wind, so familiar, and whispering the new, old secrets of the woods.

I know how you miss your companions who match you step for step, who know when to walk with you, and just when to break into a run.

I know how you miss the smell of home and the lights that light up inside of you when you see those windows from down the road.

I know how you miss the birdcalls and confusing the birds with a cacophony just as real as theirs.

I know how you miss those songs, the voices that smell of wet earth and the words fragrant from the hearth.

I know how you miss the walks, with the lightness of early mornings and the dew of well past midnight.

I know how you miss the laughter that spills over rocks and explodes in the little white puffs of the tall bulrushes.

I know how you miss the warmth that woke you up as gently as the winter sun, that lived on your skin through the day, that put you to bed.

I know how you miss those towering greybeards and their green laps and the valleys second to none.

I know how you miss each and every little thing that makes you, that builds you day by day, slowly, turning you into the person you are.

Most of all, I know how your heart aches for home, for sanctuary, for a haven to hide all your treasures in and admire them one by one.

I know what runs through your mind when sleep eludes you tonight and heartache leads you by the hand to the open door of the train.

I know the things that you turn over, slowly, in your head, as you examine the days past, turning the memories round and round.

I know how weary you feel when heartache is replaced with exhaustion and slowly, the waters of sleep pool around you, unawares.

I know how you'll feel when you wake up the next morning... a little disoriented, a little displaced, with the taste of home still warm.

I'll sit here by my window, look out at the night sky that you must have gazed at, tonight, and most of all, I'll wish I knew how you feel.

I'll wish I made you feel at home.