Hiraeth

My friend posted the following word on her Facebook page. I LOVED it and had to try and use it for the home challenge. Although I am of Welsh ancestry and a fan of Dylan Thomas, I suppose I run the risk of misunderstanding and misusing the term. Yet, I will endeavor...

HIRAETH-noun (Welsh) A spiritual longing for a home which maybe never was. Nostalgia for ancient places to which we cannot return. It is the echo of the lost places of our soul's (souls'?) past and our grief for them. It is in the wind, and the rocks, and the waves. It is nowhere and it is everywhere.

HIRAETH

Shutting my eyes,

I walk blindly through now non-existent rooms.

I can feel every crack in the cool linoleum,

The texture of each smooth brick in the fireplace.

I smell the pot roast my deceased mother is cooking,

Hear my long-gone father pulling his car into the garage

And the sound of glasses clanking together as I set an imaginary table.

HIRAETH

Like the other 99%,

I wear a distorted lens,

Retaining polarizing Polaroids-

Snapshots of scenes

From both the Hallmark channel

And some lurid Lifetime movie

I choose to forget.

The hand that wrote all the warm and funny tags

Scotch taped to the presents in my Christmas stocking

Also penned suicide notes

Left for my young eyes to see,

And the arm that held me secure in the water

As I learned to paddle and kick

Became a fist striking my older brother.

HIRAETH

Even when I open my eyes to the shortcomings

Of my loved ones,

Even when I stumble over grace

And want to set a course of forgiveness,

I can carry bits of unknown painful, fiery

Ice-cold Hell inside,

That eats away at my insides.

I know that I can set out for new latitudes,

New longitudes

And change my travelling companions,

But keep a ticking bomb within.

HIRAETH

Jesus shouts that the kingdom is within...

I try to leap off the windy high place

And smack the hard ground,

Bruised.

Must I walk on the water??

Or merely grip tight His hand??

Yet, I am certain the road inside

Leads to real Love.