Dune

Do you ever feel like a stranger to your skin?
A language feels known to the ear, but alien on the tongue?
Thoughts are shaped and reshaped in words of the colonizer.
Clothes of the other world are made to fit your size?

Never to step away from my own,
I have become one with the land.
Roots are deeper than the pot could hold.
In soil, even I don’t realise where the land and sky separate.

Lens I always shied from, I am beginning to try at times.
Hear from them, see from them, even if not think from them.
Born and brought up in a coastal town, my ways are not my own.
Nor are they like my parents.

Away from the dunes of my origin, I have found home
With the sea. But if you ask me, where I am from
You might be greeted with some confusion, some words.
A mix of my own language, city language, and the one I often write and think in.

~insight07

This is a part of a new writing challenge, where I write on prompts in alphabetical order. See you around for E!

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