Home-Ward Poem by Mohammad Yousef

By Mohammad A.Yousef

The sun sets low,
casting golden hues across
the battered ships,
weathered and worn,
once guardians of a sea
now stained with memories.

With every roll of the waves,
the hull creaks a song,
a lullaby for tired souls,
cradling hearts, raw and open,
haunted by shadows
they wish to forget.

Salt kisses the air,
carrying whispers of laughter,
reminders of who we were
before the chaos;
echoes of a home
waiting with arms wide,
not just to heal,
but to hold tight.

Nights stretch long,
starlit patches guide us;
each flicker a wish,
each gust a promise,
the land calls softly,
each wave sings along,
"Come back, come back,
we've left the light on."

Some are lost,
adrift in their own thoughts,
pursuing questions without answers,
a sky full of stars
but none that lead them home.
The tears would fill the ocean
if they could—
pain wears many shades.

Yet hope creeps like dawn,
gentle and persistent,
filling the voids within,
filling our lungs with warm air,
the kind that pushes us onward,
back to the soft whisper of grass,
the familiar creak of doors,
the scent of home-cooked meals,
the laughter of loved ones,
and the weight of hugs that lift the world.

The final stretch pulls
like a magnet,
pulling us toward reunions,
memories re-told,
past fires crackling
in the finally quiet world.
Fingers entwined,
the distance flees—
we are nearly there.

As we near the shore,
where sea meets land,
fingers graze the sacred ground,
every grain of sand a reminder,
that we crossed chaos in search
of peace,
and in each soul's return,
a promise—
we rebuild, we rise.

Homeward, we sail,
not just against the tides,
but toward each other,
toward the promise of flowers blooming,
children's laughter echoing,
fingers painted in sunlight,
every heartbeat a song—
resilient, unbroken,
binding us to the journey,
home at last.