Homeward

Maybe in a plane past this country,
past its cities drenched by rain,
you think of home instead of departure.

Against the coldness of your trip
you keep yourself warm
with the excitement of reuniting
with transitories you have left days ago:

a job to land you on international markets,
night-outs in faraway shores, shopping sprees,
independence, and your Malaysian-Indian roommate.

As clouds close in,
resemble dreamy pillows
for your weary head,
someone whispers
a story amid the storm.

In the story, you are in a different plane
on a different path leading to a different
destination with a different purpose.

You are
descending,
resting,
residing.

You to him
are slowly coming home.