Sound of lighter. Crackling of fire.
Warm feeling in the middle of night.
I can hear swans yelling,
like lonely trumpets on a lake.
Fog is rising from the water.
but ourselves and the campfire.
Steam from the stones.
Is the whole world burning?
We saw the light coming back.
Red shine from the horizon.
Swans greeted the sun like an old friend
Thats when I felt it.
This is my home.