The green grass of home.
I went into the room at the back of the house and I prayed for the anxiety to go away. I was hesitant in the packing. I wasnt looking forward to the trip but I needed to catch a grip.
The winter had been cold and lonesome, and I had been alone. I was feeling like a return to summer would do me some good.
There was a lot of broken that needed fixing and I was fixated on mending the relationship and the relationships that I had let go of when everything went fuzzy in the head.
I was feeling more awake, and I had shed a lot of dead cells, but my body had picked up weight and I had not completed the resolutions for the year. We had wrote them down. I was gonna carry them over, I thought.
On the plane, I kept watching the airspaces that we were traversing over, on the flight navigation. I slept over Kilimanjaro and woke up just before crossing the Zambezi into the north of Zimbabwe. Each passing minute was a shortening of the distance.
My heart beat faster when we crossed over the Limpopo. I had a window seat by good fortune and the ground below was in green splendour. I was coming back to all that I had left behind, and to see you again.
I recited a silent prayer, and my heart and head were united in the resolve to fix all that which I thought I could fix, and to solve, for your weary heart.
I was convinced.