Away To Home
And once again he sets out. Sheds what holds him. And glides out into the night.
I’m coming
he tells himself. And quickens his step. Crosses hallways and doors. Then breathes the cool night air. Leaves his own grounds. Black asphalt under his shoes. He walks on. Passes dark houses with lit windows. He doesn’t see them. Just keeps going.
Past fields, meadows, and forests. Past people who laugh, weep, who call out to him. He doesn’t hear them. One foot in front of the other. No rest. The pull in his chest allows no pause.
My homeland is already far behind me
he thinks. But the further he gets from his homeland, the closer he comes to his home. And along the way he passes through villages. Leaves cities behind him and walks through entire countries.
His feet grow heavy, but something pulls him onward. A call he can’t resist. That fills him. That commands him.
Come to me
he hears her. And he follows the call. To the edge of the continent and beyond. Crosses oceans and reaches new land. Foreign land. Foreign people in foreign cities cross his path. A path that leads to her. That leads him home. With every step her voice grows louder. The words clearer. The pull stronger. He looks up at the sky.
Not yet
he wishes. The black is turning lighter, bluer. He sees her house in the distance. A dark house with lit windows. And he sees her. Waiting. For him. Once more he quickens his step. Reaches out. Wants to grasp her. Then a flash of gold cuts through the houses. He feels the warmth of the day’s first sunbeam.
His hand still outstretched, he watches her vanish. Watches the house grow smaller as he is pulled back. Back through countries, cities, and villages. Past forests, meadows, and fields. In through doors and hallways. Back to his room. Back to his body. As at every end of every night.
Tomorrow, perhaps
he tells himself.