The Path Home

puncakbukit (78)in #photography • 2 months ago (edited)

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The asphalt path, a ribbon gray and worn,
Unwinds beneath the canopy's deep sigh.
A thousand shades of green, where light is born,
And filters down from fronds against the sky.
I see the banana trees, a clustered crown,
Their broad leaves catching the day's soft heat,
And where the winding lane curves gently down,
A memory of silence, cool and sweet.

　This is the road I know, the earth I miss,
　Where every root and stone recalls a name.
　The humid air holds promise of a kiss,
　A slow, returning comfort, like a flame
　That flickers low, but never quite goes out.
　I walk on harder pavements, bright and fast,
　Yet still, my heart is tangled round about
　The shadow of this lane, built to last.

I yearn to hear the rustle in the dense,
Untroubled growth that crowds the sun-warmed sides;
To breathe the scent of loam and moist pretense
Of jungle peace, where simple wonder hides.
The place where life is measured by the bloom,
The rain that falls, the ripening of fruit,
Far from the structured rush, the sterile room,
Back to this quiet, undisturbed root.

　The narrow road extends, then disappears,
　A threshold crossed, a journey yet untold.
　It holds the promise I have kept for years,
　A simple, open space, a hand to hold.
　Oh, secret path, where do your windings cease?
　Lead me back home, past every leafy wall,
　To find again that long-forgotten peace,
　And answer freedom's slow, insistent call.

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The Path HomesteemCreated with Sketch.

The Path Home