Hiraeth
The drive started quite early, even before the sun was dawning. The moon was visibly pale and poetic. Witnessing them both the sun and the moon simultaneously is neither a rarity nor a beauty. Because they both are not at their best, easily; one is exhausted and the other, lusterless. I was seeking the mountains by the side, through my windshield. I knew I somehow, belonged there, somewhere. A sense of "hiraeth" caught me unguarded, as the silhouette of the majestic mountains became barely visible out of the morning mist in the distant realms. It was hard to guess the exact curves where the hills and the clouds kissed each other. Maybe it was a passionate and deep smooch, that they dissolved into each other without boundaries or borders. I finally felt the homecoming, even though I was driving miles away from the home, ironically. Every time I tried to imagine their heights, their core, their beauty in my mind, I felt a strange silence inside my shrine as if...