Nothing Nevertheless

How can I stare up at the sky
And be both
Blanketed with a feeling of home and
Lifted out of myself
How my taste buds
So suddenly
Decided to change
How inspiration can be
So bottomless
Pouring like sweet wine
Then not a drop
No current in which to flow
How the sense of nostalgia
Can fill a home, or even
Why dreams feel truer to me
I wonder about these things
And much more
It is quite an odd thing
My soul
When it takes pleasure
In the wonder alone
I hear the other side
Begging me to
Keep a secret

- Nirmohi