Pines

You belong where the pines stand tall,

Where the wind whispers names you’ve known since you were small.

Where the river bends like it’s holding its breath,

And the earth feels like home beneath every step.

You’ve been searching for something the road can’t provide,

But the places that made you are still by your side.

Come back to the quiet, where the wild hearts go,

Where the mountains rise and the cold streams flow.

You were made for the sunlight cutting through it all,

You belong where the pines stand tall.

There’s a cabin there with a door left wide,

A fire still burns though it’s been some time.

The echoes of laughter still live in the air,

Like a song unfinished, waiting for you there.

You’ve carried your stories like stones in your pack,

But the weight only lifts when you know your way back.

Come back to the quiet, where the wild hearts go,

Where the mountains rise and the cold streams flow.

You were made for the sunlight cutting through it all,

You belong where the pines stand tall.

There’s a peace you’ll find in the rustling leaves,

In the sound of the wind as it weaves through the trees.

What you’ve been chasing was never that far,

It’s the roots that hold steady while you reach for the stars.

Come back to the quiet, where the wild hearts go,

Where the mountains rise and the cold streams flow.

You were made for the sunlight cutting through it all,

You belong where the pines stand tall.