This prison. Walls. No trees.
No where to hide
To be alone or cry.
No one to understand the lover’s yearning for the mountains
And the pain of missing my
Second home.
The touch of that book this morning,
The tone of those words,
The reassuring sense.
No one to understand
The pain,
The desperation of the caged,
To Get out and go!
Back to the beloved Mountains
With my loving family.
Or merely attend crazy
Chemistry classes.
Trapped here. Noise, too many
People. Watching. Too closely.
Cant be alone
Cant scream in frustration
Do you know how it feels
To be surrounded and filled
With Whole Free Beautiful Love?
To live in that medium-
To breathe it?
My home. The immensity of the
Mountains,
Their splendour.
It calls. I will go.
1 comment:
beautiful words and I can empathize with your yearning to return but for me I have barely scratched the surface of what I miss. India and the people
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