Belonging
Leaving home one day,
Shoved against the backdoor,
By the wind from behind.
That ordinary day,
Aimless days like this, tears one apart,
When the mind drifts to the clouds
But fails to ascend high in clarity's path.
Mechanically following
This path, once crossed by the sea,
Serves no more than an industrial layout.
Spitting blackened foam.
Better yet if I was made of steel,
Stainless,
I'd be.
This skin resonates, stone cold,
Whereupon touch,
Springs echoes of glaciers.
But, underneath the tissues,
This metallic fallacy,
The cogwheel wished for
Is but a heart.
But one that's designed to beat warmth
Could also derail along life's
Mechanisms;
Where, upon the tip of a prick,
Bleeds like distressed waters
Pumping frizzy filaments from
A fountain's old soul.
Moving on,
No longer following the tireless pace,
I tread with one wavering hand
And one steady shoulder
Weary of that burdensome satchel.
Where was I setting foot?
Why have I come to a halt?
As the compass
Navigated in deviation,
I wondered,
Have I lost something?
Left anything behind?
And looked back.
This sight,
Locked my eyes to that of a stranger's,
Captivated in an unfamiliar province.
In realization,
Not all roads carry footprints,
Let alone sands retain.
Distant, bitter,
I wouldn't have left on
The spur of a moment.
None other but this city
I walked away from …
Can fill my lungs with such intensity,
Awakening all senses,
Gently blowing this reminiscence.
That of a graceful fragrance,
An orchid amidst the burgeoning;
Now uprooted.
This harbour cradled me through time,
Throughout childhood in such an embrace,
Leading waves after another.
The mountains that surround
Were regions of premier attachment.
None other but this land
Bewitches me.
Miles apart,
There's a city,
Left behind by me,
Who left the city,
Who left me.
Where the uprooted
Long to find their way,
A coming of age,
Retrace.
Look to the closest field,
And await,
The greening of bauhinias.
Back home.