As the countdown for a dreaded, return looms
It seems like time is flying away like a
storm
Swirling towards the gigantic ocean of
reality
Draining out the sand beneath the feet
Slowly drowning me in its ever-growing
depth
The more I look for an anchor of hope to
hold on
The land of fathers looks sure to
abandon me
Back to the world I belong to, for an unforeseeable time
I will miss the hills and valleys filled
with green carpets
Of grasslands, separated by hedges all
along
The array of sheep and lambs munching on
virgin grass
The tidal river Usk and its uncertain flow
directions
The drizzles that accompanied by heavy
winds
The freezing temperatures and the naked
trees in winter
The picturesque landscapes I saw on my
journeys to work
The seamless motorways made distances
look like nothing
The endless daylight of summer and eternal
darkness of winter
The hams, kebabs, chips and fish, countless
experiments with food
The dragons, castles, forts and all those
heritage that remains
I wrote this poem when I left Newport for Birmingham in 2012.
Images Courtesy: Adobe Stock Images and Nation.Cymru
