Although with heavy heart, you were departed
No time to mourn, once the adventure got started
Realise what it is that I have left behind
Pay my respects, am not unkind.
Not sure why I don’t feel more upset
Maybe it hasn’t quite sunk in yet
Loved what we had, what I know I have left
But don’t feel the loss, am in no way bereft.
There is no ache in the pit of my core
None of the longing I thought was in store
I know I’m distracted, and maybe that’s it
But surely it should hurt, even a bit.
I think in my head I knew it was right
To call it a day when I got on that flight
We shared something special, but we’d run our race
It was time for a new life...in a new place.
Goodbye Oz
Written in July 2010, after leaving home for what I figured was going to be a while.
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Monday, October 18, 2010
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Leaving
Light in the wallet but heavy of heart,
Its time to go home and make a fresh start.
The months felt like days, our heads are still spinning
Is this the end of a chapter or the next one’s beginning?
Are we different people from those that left in November?
It seems a lifetime ago, can you even remember
The cucumber salads, the jelly bean games,
The inability to remember everyone’s names.
The awkward conversations that plagued every table
Did you really think we’d make it? Were you sure you were able?
So now that it’s done and we’ve proven our worth
Will they welcome us back to the land of our birth?
Or will they look at us strangely if we eat with our hands
And grow weary of our tales of far off lands.
Will we fit back into the grooves from which we came?
Even though our grasp on reality may never be the same.
Of course they’ll have us back, even if we bore them to tears
And life will resume to just the same as it has been for years
Cause there’s no place like OZ, the home of your heart,
No more fitting place to end then back at the start.
But the kids won’t know the words to Resham Phiriri
And I doubt any will ask for your family tree,
And in those quiet moments when you allow yourself to sit and reminisce
You may well find it’s us and Nepal that you miss!
Written Feb 2008, for the girls I volunteered with as we headed home.
Its time to go home and make a fresh start.
The months felt like days, our heads are still spinning
Is this the end of a chapter or the next one’s beginning?
Are we different people from those that left in November?
It seems a lifetime ago, can you even remember
The cucumber salads, the jelly bean games,
The inability to remember everyone’s names.
The awkward conversations that plagued every table
Did you really think we’d make it? Were you sure you were able?
So now that it’s done and we’ve proven our worth
Will they welcome us back to the land of our birth?
Or will they look at us strangely if we eat with our hands
And grow weary of our tales of far off lands.
Will we fit back into the grooves from which we came?
Even though our grasp on reality may never be the same.
Of course they’ll have us back, even if we bore them to tears
And life will resume to just the same as it has been for years
Cause there’s no place like OZ, the home of your heart,
No more fitting place to end then back at the start.
But the kids won’t know the words to Resham Phiriri
And I doubt any will ask for your family tree,
And in those quiet moments when you allow yourself to sit and reminisce
You may well find it’s us and Nepal that you miss!
Written Feb 2008, for the girls I volunteered with as we headed home.
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