Hiraeth

I used to bridge cultural gaps

in the air,

Coming home to the smell

of fried coconuts,

Readied for the Goddess.

A place far away,

Where I remain just a name,

My heart stops to the tune,

I happily ignored years back.

As the rain carelessly lashed

On the windowsill,

Unattended,

I remembered my paper boat,

Aimlessly sailing through

Waterlogged lanes,

Never coming back.

We watched the murky skies,

On rain soaked evenings,

Echoes of laughter over hot coffee,

The calling of home.

When relations are bygones,

So is love.

I sense fear in coming back,

Being greeted by the blue neon lights,

Standing amid the rubble I call home.

The warmth of my feelings,

Memories, heartbreaks and secrets,

Exposed, out in the cold,

Eventually found shelter in my words.

It is the only home I know now.

My hiraeth is strong.