on longing
by lovelaurie
There is a certain romanticism of longing. A deep sense as I look from the depths of my soul across the glittering lights of a quiet night. I hold a rope and one hand after another, I am getting closer to this overwhelming suffocating all encompassing creature/feeling to wrap me in his blanket of assuredness kiss me on my head and lead me home.
This longing rings so true of culture shock, perhaps that’s not what you are experiencing, but rarely have I heard it articulated so poetically. I shall pass on these words to the many, many young people I work with who spend time in places not their own.