Poet warrior's Blog: Poems, articles and musings.
A longing to return to a place I think I knew,
Even though I’ve never been there.
A desire to walk back into your arms,
Even though we’ve never met.
A want to sing songs that I remember,
Even though I’ve never heard them.
There are flowers I can see
Which I’ve never touched.
There are trees I’ve hugged
Which I’ve never reached for.
There are names I hear,
Which I’ve never called.
Away from this madness,
There is a sanity which I yearn for.
Away from this hubbub,
There is a stillness which I look for.
Away from these possessions
There are treasures which I would own.
Away from this loneliness
There is a union I would reach.
Away from this horde
There is a face I want to see.
When even childhood is a dream,
There is a maturity I would attain.
When even happiness is an illusion,
There is a reality I would embrace.
There are fields I’ve never walked,
But I want to see us there.
There are forests I’ve never entered,
But I want to hear us laugh there.
There are wines I’ve never tasted,
But I want to taste us drunk on them.
There are words I’ve never said,
But I want to feel us smile at them.
There are beginnings I’ve never recalled,
But I want us to imagine them.
There are endings I’ve never glimpsed
But I want us to live them.
Hiraeth - (noun) A homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.