Belonging.

I still remember

how my legs pushed and pulled

my way through the forest

climbing the rugged path

cycling the hills home.

~

Sounds of nightbirds 

echoed through the pine trees

Dogs barked from their homes

from the tiny light spots in the hills 

Only these valley sounds

Only the whispers of the branches

and I

The rustling in the bushes, a lost cat

they made me shiver for a moment.

~

I could pick a star

one out of millions

suspended by the night sky

joined together as a universal blanket

an infinity impossible to grasp

I cycled through

while the soft night air

kissed my skin.

~

Out of the corner of my eye

I noticed a shadow

a roundness and vastness

the flapping of majestic wings

a magical touch infused the dark sky

I looked over my left shoulder

and she was extraordinary, like a mystic.

~

I was still cycling

the night owl disappeared in the darkness

Dogs were still barking

answering across the hills

The calling of nightbirds 

maybe they were answering too.

~

Each time when this forest path

took me home at night

it felt like a warm embrace

from heart to heart

it drugged me, stopped my shattering mind.

~

This valley on this small island

with her winding roads and olive groves

it’s what they call belonging

I can still taste the nature of home.

Image: Julia Solonina/Unsplash