What whispers do you hear in the wind?
When your mind withers and you are just a bag of meat.
An object of lust for envied eyes.
Or a welcome companion to a loved one.

Horses canter through the field.
Playful nights and days in the elements.
Cold in the outside setting sun.
Moving brings health and warmth to those who come.

Such a lovely place.
On a hill with trees, bracken and heather.
Lone cow wanders.
Such solitude is healing.

Shared adventures postponed.
Lives split and shared more thin.
A calloused finger runs down my chest.
I don’t recognise this touch.

What is darkness to those lost in the wilderness.
A habitable home full of comfort and hope.
We survive here.
A solace of familiar weather.

Home at last.

*Until we all inevitably die, alone, suffering in the tremendous agony of what feels like an wasted eternity.

*Added for a friend who prefers a sad ending.