Is it a pipedream?

Sounds attainable, yet it isn’t so

Photo by Yohann Lc on Unsplash

Writing when I can,
where am I at

Am I on the right track?
Am I moving forward?
Or moving backwards?

I’m no longer sure,
I feel my mind is playing tricks on me

From afar, all the sudden,
I see a mountain,
a mountain towering over a sea

So blue, so pure
Like a painting, or a scene from a motion picture
I move towards it
Drawing me like a bait on a hook

It’s calling for me, I’m hooked

I hover closer
A patch of grassland emerges;
glistening with an array of trees:
mulberry, fig, and almond

Kept alive by a single spring, gushing around the corner

The images of my forefathers, harvesting the land
Great-grandparents in their abayas and aqals, plucking the fruits
So ripe, so tender, so juicy

I’m here, this is where I belong

I’m home,
I’ve returned,
Finally, at long last

What a feeling, so overwhelming
I’ve been trying to since I learned who and what I am

And when it happens for real,
it’d be as surreal