Hiraeth

Who calls me from across the sea,

aloud and yet, ever so softly.

Who calls my name with painful longing -

the affliction from which I suffer now.

Who calls me ?

Does anyone call at all?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alone in the city,

bright and bustling,

and crowded -

I long for the silence

of the trees

and the whispering of the wind

and the solitude

that raised me.

I wish for the warmth

of the Sun's hands

as it wakes me in

the morning.

I wish for the dog's cry

to the moon at night.

I wish for the intense stillness

of the sky

and for the sound of soft waves

rushing upon the shore.

I wish for my lover's eyes

to be looking into mine,

for his embrace

for his body by my side

at night.

I wish for the comfort

of his breath down my neck

while he holds me

and slowly rocks me

to sleep.

I wish for my brother's

playfulness

and for his tall tales

and adventurous stories.

I wish to see his smile

and his laugh

as he plays and prances

in the entirety of his

obliviousness.

I wish for the home

that I never found with

the parents who raised me.

I wish for the

acceptance and trust

without which I grew.

I wish for the understanding

and the patience

and the kind words

whose absence

caused great pain to me

and created conflicts between me and them -

like the conflict of two great countries

at war.

I wish for the feeling to want to go back.

I wish for the feeling of belonging,

of being missed,

of being wanted.

I wish for the home that never was.

I wish for the life that never was to be.

I wish for Hiraeth.