I have been in Zambia for three days now. I plan to share more about where I’m at and the organization later, but I wanted to share with you guys a poem I wrote last week after leaving Bulawayo, Zimbabwe.
If I’m honest, I was having a bit of a hard time adjusting from doing life with friends in Bulawayo to no longer getting to see them at all. I felt like I had been in a bit of a funk due to sadness of leaving which in turn made me also miss home a little. Thanks to one of my friends at Youth for Christ, I was inspired to write about how I feel in (poetry form) to process why I was feeling the way I was. I miss my YFC friends like crazy, but I’m doing better now with the transition. Here goes nothing:
Familiar feelings
Maybe the pain I’m feeling inside is the all too familiar pain of losing a friend—this time because of the inevitable rotation of hands on a clock.
Representing another month, signaling for this nomad to gather up and move on.
Maybe this all too familiar feeling smells a little like home sickness.
My heart and thoughts desperately trying to grasp onto something it knows, but there’s nothing recognizable in sight.
Maybe this familiar feeling weighing heavy on my heart is simply just nostalgia. Remembering the sweet taste of conversations once had.
Memories that will plainly remain memories ingrained in my mind until the corrosion of time wears them away and new ones are carved over them.
And maybe these familiar feelings are just part of the cyclical, altering motions of life—unable to be stopped.
Maybe this is how we move on.
With love,
Hals
