Here, longing is a shadow,
hovering between towering buildings,
following me with every step.
I walk, but my thoughts drift
to the winds and birdsong of my village,
sounds that always carry me home.
There, my mother's voice falls like rain,
gentle on my ears, tender on my heart,
making me wish to return,
like roots seeking damp land.
But this city clings to my longing,
as if afraid to release me
back into the warm embrace of home.
Melbourne, Australia, 2012
/3/
The Village Beneath the Wide Sky
by Leni Marlina
My village is a wide, open sky,
spanning the shade of every tree,
every dusty path that holds forgotten tales.
In the city, the sky is veiled with mist,
holding my longing captive in tight spaces.
There, my steps are never lost;
each corner reminds me of childhood,
where stories and laughter rise, twirling in the air.
But here, my longing for the village becomes a cloud,
floating formless,
searching for its way home.
Canberra, Australia, 2012
/4/
Sowing Longing in Faraway Land
