HOME.

 
The closer I came to the bridge, the free-er I felt. One by one each fear and worry fell from me. And I was me, again. Around the bend the island stood still across the waters.
— Him

 

I think it's possible to be so connected to a place

that it consumes you.

It speaks your name and calls to you in the dark.

It whispers sweet secrets of longing in your ear,

of adventure on the horizon.

 

Like gravity

it pulls you,

grounds you.

Without it you float

up into a dark expanse,

watching a world move round beneath you.

 

I have a place like this,

where my spirit feels free

and I am home.

 

My bare feet

sink into the sand

and I am sure of who I am

and who I am becoming.

 

All I have to do is cross the bridge

and I'm there

and it's magic.

Artists, appreciate your fellow creatives, the unknown and undiscovered.  I love David Butler's sketches (like the one above) - he calls himself the "Bridge Hunter."  I find myself moved by his work and his obsession.

Writers, what is the place or places that have hold of you?  If you don't have one yet, then keep searching, keep moving, it may find you.