Hiraeth - a Welsh word with no direct English translation; an approximation is the longing, or yearning for home.
A path cuts between pastures to the
place where Slate Hill rises from the earth.
Where the hill meanders down,
It melts into a meadow filled with
swaying grasses and lively flowers.
I walk across the meadow to where
frogs peep in the pond, and forest
meets meadow's edge. The sun smiles.
The wind rushes cool through
lofty branches and green leaves. Birds
build nests and squirrels keep watch.
I walk for over an hour until I reach
the farthest edge of the woods, where
a stream gurgles over its chilly bed.
I sit and eat my lunch, surrounded
serenely by all of God's creation.
Peaceful moments apart from man.
I step from yesterday's memories,
to here and now, where green trees
have turned into condos and strip malls.
It is true, you can never go home.