What I Hunger For

I hunger to sit with the sunsets and sunrises, to sit by a creek with crystal clear water, a friend next to me, backs propped against a tree, notebook and pen in hand filling page after page with words we grab as they float by. I hunger to dig my toes into the hot white sand of ocean fronts walking hand in hand with my partner as we both meander down yet to be discovered forest paths.

I hunger for my mom's lemon meringue and chocolate pies. 

I hunger to visit waterfalls and feel the magic of it all. The cool mist against my warm skin, watching the rainbow created by a sun beam through the fall and listening to the roar of the water coming down. I hunger for road trips across Canada without time limitations, stopping wherever we want and staying as long as we want. 

I hunger for climbing trees like I did as a child. Sitting in the arms of a poplar or birch tree with a good book or just watching the world go by dreaming of possibilities of what could be. 

I hunger for walks and drives guided by the light of the full moon. I hunger to hear my son's voice one more time, to know what has become of him since he died. Where does his spirit lie besides being in the recesses of my heart and mind.

I hunger to see robins, a true sign of spring, feeding on worms out on my front lawn and Canada geese flying in V formations across the sky, sure signs that spring is really here to stay until summer decides to come around. I hunger for green grass, butterflies, leaves on the trees, friends and family around campfires roasting marshmallows and sitting on my back deck to do my morning writing.

I hunger for deep meaningful conversations that lift my spirit and fills me with a sense of connection and belonging to warm my heart. I hunger for Covid to get the hell out of our lives, for a return to normal visits with hugs, and big smacking kisses on cheeks of loved ones instead of virtual hugs, elbow bumps and other shows of affection that are well meant but don't last as long. 

I hunger to be in the presence of my daughters, their partners and my five grandchildren. To see their smiles, hear their laughter, wrap my arms around them and hug them tight, sitting next to them and hearing about their day, their life. 

I hunger to travel to see friends I hold close to my heart, to enter their homes, sitting with them in person, instead of looking at them on a screen or behind a mask or having to mind how close we sit to each other. 

I hunger for less work commitments, more time with loved ones, more time on the page, more time reading the many books on my reading list and many more cycling trips discovering unexplored places down nature's winding trails. 

I hunger for the sense of Oneness that fills me to the brim derived  from all these things I hunger for.