Away from my grandmother’s house,
into the forests that envelop it,
I walk on, slipping on moss
stepping on creepers,
avoiding the itchy plant I cannot name
almost walking into a banana shoot.
I walk on, not knowing where I want to be.
I stop suddenly
for in the middle, I see
a large, empty meadow with
soft looking baby pink flowers
empty, save for chirping birds and noisy insects.
suddenly feeling like a foreigner, I want to walk away.
I want to but I fail.
Unsure of what to name the tugging in my chest,
I stagger towards the meadow
feeling my knees give out.
kneeling in the middle of the meadow,
comfort, I breathe out,
touching my forehead to the ground
comfort, I repeat, letting the word fall softly from my lips
comfort, like a mother’s loving embrace,
like a friend’s knowing glance,
warmth, that brings forth tears.
The meadow cradles me,
rocking my sobbing self back and forth;
I’m her child for many hours.
Walking back, unaware of my way out,
I’m at ease somehow,
without a care about where I place my feet
slipping and stumbling again,
I’m home, I whisper, beaming,
feeling lighter than I’ve felt in forever
wanting to hold onto that feeling
refusing to leave, to let go.
joy, knowing that this green escape
is my secret paradise.