If I Could Go Back To Vietam Poem by Natasa To

What if I am back in Vietnam,
standing where my childhood used to be,
with the warm wind touching my face
and the old streets calling out to me?

Would the morning still smell of coffee,
of rain, of flowers, of home?
Would the sound of distant motorbikes
make me forget how far I've roamed?

I would walk beneath the familiar trees,
past little shops and crowded roads,
searching for pieces of yesterday
in places my heart still holds.

I would sit beside my family,
and listen more than I speak,
because time has taken so much away,
and memories have grown so deep.

I would eat the food I grew up with,
slowly, as if time could stay—
as if one bowl of phở, one cup of tea
could bring back every yesterday.

And maybe I would cry a little,
not because I am unhappy or afraid,
but because I finally understand
how much of me was left behind.

If I am ever back in Vietnam,
I won't ask the years to disappear.
I'll simply be grateful for one moment
to feel that I still belong there.

For sometimes, home is not where we live,
or where our footsteps choose to roam.
Home is the place our heart remembers
long before we know the meaning of home.