450 Kilometres To You Poem by Faith Cecelia Story

Four hundred and fifty kilometres
of road, dust, sky, and waiting—
yet every mile bends gently
toward the gravity of you.

My mind is playing its sweet tricks now.
The air feels different,
as though it carries a whisper of your scent
long before I reach your door.
How can someone be so near
when the journey is not yet done?

I remember how you used to say I love you,
not softly,
but like a call across mountains—
a voice so full it echoed
through my bones,
through my quietest thoughts.

And I imagine the moment again while my soul vibrates.

Your lips,
that first tender kiss
that makes the world fall silent
around two beating hearts.

The door opening.

My breath catching.

That helpless ahh escaping me
when you step into the room,
as though the universe
has finally placed its missing star
back into the sky.

All this dreaming,
all this longing,
all these nights of remembering
the warmth of you—

now turning into something real.

Because my love for you
is not only in my thoughts.

It lives deeper
in the quiet chambers of my body,
in the soft fire of my soul,
in the sacred breath of my spirit
that has always known
the road would lead me back to you.

And somewhere along this long journey,
between distance and destiny,

I realized,

I was never just travelling
four hundred and fifty kilometres.

I was travelling to invite you
home.