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.