I want to go to the place where the language is familiar

The food is comforting and love is warm.

I want to see where the sky meets the ocean one more time.

I want to feel the earth massaging my feet

I want the brown to stain my white

I want my eyes to water from the smoke of earthen pots

I want to drink water that flows directly from nature

I want to move my head to the rhythm of pestle meeting the mortar

I want to feel the ache from a belly full

I want to hear voices lost in conversations until they merge as one

I want laughter and anecdotes. I want bad jokes and great comebacks

I want fruits after Mother Nature has taken a bite.

I want warm hands gently massaging my scalp to obedience

I want promises and wild hopes

And then,

I want to hear the lullaby of the owl gently bidding me good night.

I want home.