Is there a right way to slip back into the world of blogging after an unintentional four month break? I’m not exactly sure to be honest, but here I am! I don’t really have much of an excuse for my absence other than time began to slip away from me rather quickly once the semester started, and, after four years of weekly blogging, I decided I could afford a creative break from sharing on here.
That’s not to say that I haven’t been creative these past months though! I’ve taken a creative writing class this past semester that has pushed me to create some good content, and I’ve been able to create in other, less orthodox, ways (think weekly baking sessions and large chunks of journaling). I’ve been grateful for the space to focus on other things for a season, but recently I’ve been getting to urge to come back to this blog and start sharing things again. Writing is an intrinsic part of who I am, and I am eager to share some of my newest poems and stories with you all! (You’ll probably also notice that this blog has a new look – I figured after 4.5 years of existence it was about time to change things up a bit!)
Just a heads up though, blogging might be a bit sporadic until the New Year. I’m just days away from wrapping up my Fall semester and then making the 5000+ mile trek back home to spend Christmas with my family. I usually take a few weeks off blogging in this season anyways, so things will probably be quiet on here until 2022 hits. However, I’m already planning my 2021 reading recap posts, so you can expect those at some point in January!
For now, I figured I would share the second half, so to speak, of the poem that I posted wayyyy back in July. That poem was on the the topic of ‘fernweh’, the German word for ‘wanderlust’, and it felt very appropriate to share back then as I was preparing to leave home. The poem I’m about to share is about ‘heimweh’, a German word that roughly translates to ‘home-ache’. It’s essentially the opposite of ‘fernweh’ – it’s a desire, a longing for home. As I prepare to head home, I’ve felt this ‘heimweh’ quite a bit, so it feels right that I should share it with you all now.
It feels like not-your-voice waking me up in the morning,
but rather the cold ache of my alarm, impersonal.
It feels like the clatter of laughter and dishes
that remind me of August evening diner-time banter.
It feels like swallowing lunch wishing the din
of voices were yours, and not just theirs.
It feels like ‘this store feels familiar.
But not because it is, but rather because it is a store
like the one we used to pop into to grab bread
and bell peppers before dinner on Thursday.’
It feels like if I squint just right, I can see you
ahead of me on the road, sun blurring your head.
It feels like the almost-there weight of your hands
grasping mine, pulling me towards home.
Have you ever felt ‘heimweh’ before? Does this poem resonate with you? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments! 🙂