When I first heard the distant chipper of the birds 

Returning from a land where they speak my mother’s tongue 

I felt longing 

A deep sense of lost connection 

I flip stones 

Searching for it under an abandoned pot 

Where flowers haven’t grown in years 

The earth still warm from the soothing sun 

I burn down withered bushes 

I drink from indigo fountains 

To discover little pieces of myself 

glittering in the sun 

Like little treasures disappearing once I touch them