Can a normadic heart be stilled?
Can it ever exchange tent and peg for stone?
Can it cease from retracing the pathsit once walked
in an endless effort to fit the pieces it left behind?
Will there be a day when tears no longer flow
at the mention of the life it lost?
Will reconstruction mendthe scattered roots?
Countless horizons beckon come,
and yet this heart fears
Memories shattered,
by realities that followed,
leaving an unfamiliar mark,
on paths that once meant home.
Emotional meanderings reflect
the trail marked in the sand,
reaching far and wide
yet never resting.
Distant voices echo
the cries of this normadic heart,
uniting across the distance
what often seems in part.
And though culture may be shared
each path serves to remind
of the memories and dreams
left behind or yet unreached.
Be still oh my soul and see,
you were planted in a flowerpot,
perhaps without a home
but your roots are still in tact.
For someone knew,
the tender root would not survive
the frequent change of soil and light,
remaining either stunted
or giving up instead.
With your roots in tact,
blossom and see
the beauty of a heart
so colourful and free.
A unique creation
raised
through strategic
cross-pollination.
(aus: Globetrotter. Familien im interkulturellen Dienst)