I took a thousand passionate steps,
small and quick,
breathless in my eagerness to arrive home.
The further I go, the stranger it gets
this landscape that mirrors home
If we were having coffee together this weekend, you would probably sense a certain caginess about me. I probably won’t be able to hold your gaze like I normally would. I’d probably touch my hair a lot, fiddle with my lemon-patterned top and my red coffee cup.Don’t worry it’s not you. It’s me and my sense of not belonging in this place. I would have told you that when I spend time in noisy, crowded places like this oozy cafe filled with millennials, I feel it acutely. Displaced, estranged from this city and its people (ok, that may be a tad dramatic). Beautiful as it may be, laden with memories and childhood ties, it doesn’t feel like home. Nowhere feels like home.
I imagine that you would have consoled me with a generous slice of black forest cake and these wise words “before nation, identity and tribe, there is Spirit. And if one were on such a journey, led of Spirit, everywhere is home and every soul is a friend”.
Inspired by this #weekendcoffeeshare and today’s Daily Prompt – Passionate.