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.
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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.