After eighteen years of claiming what’s mine and what could be,
I see a side to the world that doesn’t belong to just me.
The mountains stretch neck-strechingly high and the valleys cut heart wrenchingly deep,
The rush of the waterfall is one I can’t keep.
None of this is mine,
But I still mutually own
These billion year wonders I’ve seeked to dethrone.
But who knew I’d find comfort on wet grass and sharp stone?
And who knew that in silence I’d still feel unalone?
That the further we trek from Kathmandu
The less stars we see on valleys and hills
The more stars we see nearest the moon.
Maybe, I don’t need fancy restaurants and grand malls
If I can see the Himalayas as I’m sipping my daal.
And I certainly don’t need horror movies at all–
When I can fight off leeches in the heights of Nepal.
I’m having the time of my life
But, even I must confess
This was one decision close to being a trek I’d reject.
Now my only worry is that this will be another home I’d neglect.
Another home’s green foresty hills
Turned into emptiness for green dollar bills.
Now how will I regain this wonderful thrill?!
How else shall I test my mental strength and my will?
If I leave this place will I contribute to what’s making home ill?
I killed a chicken.
Thought it would scar me for life,
But, here I am eating meat each afternoon and each night.
How can I trust myself to vote with each bite,
If I keep committing these wrongs while I acknowledge what’s right.
It’s not all that bad to know I’m a mess.
As long as I continue to try my best and progress
To try to be more mindful…I guess