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My home- the sweetest and the bitterest dream, the one which filled me from within. It followed me all around. A siesta would always bring with itself the smooth tickling of the clouds on my neck, a faint rose envelope of quiet mist and familiar gurgling of water around my knees.
But where was it?
I've asked myself the same question many times. Always sans an answer.
The feels came back to me in the most unexpected of times. Launched itself when I waited for my chance to answer. Floated over me as I drifted to sleep. It haunted, yet caressed me.
Sometimes I'd sit on a beach and wonder why it was always water? I was terrified of even the thought of swimming. Yet, it was always the rustic glory of the oceans that excited me. The mist and the eerie quiet. All seemed familiar. I felt as though I belonged.
Often, a figure, tall and silhouetted, smiled at me. Yes, sihouetted and smiling. He called for me, and winked at me. He nearly made me swoon with the contrast the first time.
It was all very odd of course. I was famed to be practical in my circles. The visions seemed to break my pride.
Though often, I'd pine for it. That was when it played with me. Disappearing whenever I wished to hold on. Skies sprinkled with magenta at the end of each day, reminded me of the waters so pink, and so frothy like an exuberant child playing with bubbles.
Sometimes, it would be shamrock green doing a peek-a-boo through amaranth magenta, other days it would be redberry oozing all over!
The colours always, though greying, always varied to enhance my mood. When I was happy it would bring an ecstatic oblivion; it would break me when I was sad.
To be honest I had never, even in the most ridiculous stories, heard of such a chameleon-domicile!
But there always existed a longing; an overwhelming want to go home. Home, to the misty clouds round my neck and the sea under my feet.
Maybe, this is what you call hiraeth?
But where was it?
I've asked myself the same question many times. Always sans an answer.
The feels came back to me in the most unexpected of times. Launched itself when I waited for my chance to answer. Floated over me as I drifted to sleep. It haunted, yet caressed me.
Sometimes I'd sit on a beach and wonder why it was always water? I was terrified of even the thought of swimming. Yet, it was always the rustic glory of the oceans that excited me. The mist and the eerie quiet. All seemed familiar. I felt as though I belonged.
Often, a figure, tall and silhouetted, smiled at me. Yes, sihouetted and smiling. He called for me, and winked at me. He nearly made me swoon with the contrast the first time.
It was all very odd of course. I was famed to be practical in my circles. The visions seemed to break my pride.
Though often, I'd pine for it. That was when it played with me. Disappearing whenever I wished to hold on. Skies sprinkled with magenta at the end of each day, reminded me of the waters so pink, and so frothy like an exuberant child playing with bubbles.
Sometimes, it would be shamrock green doing a peek-a-boo through amaranth magenta, other days it would be redberry oozing all over!
The colours always, though greying, always varied to enhance my mood. When I was happy it would bring an ecstatic oblivion; it would break me when I was sad.
To be honest I had never, even in the most ridiculous stories, heard of such a chameleon-domicile!
But there always existed a longing; an overwhelming want to go home. Home, to the misty clouds round my neck and the sea under my feet.
Maybe, this is what you call hiraeth?
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