The longer i have been away, the more unaccomplished I feel
The feeling of the sun, glistening off the reflective turf
To my second home
The bike ride is never easy
Twenty minutes, pushing up and down hills
Peddling, I wonder, when I arrive, will I be able to play on the fields?
Will there be people to play with?
So many questions involving one joyous idea,
To see the beautiful fields and to feel goals
Arriving at my second home today,
A few of my questions are answered:
Yes the fields are open
Yes my friends are there to play
The chance to shoot on a goal.
As I prepare myself,
My chest swells
My heart thumps
My eyes focus
I b-r-e-a-t-h-e in deeply and smile,
as the ball curls, gently, into the upper netting
of the goal.
A task
so seemingly easy: kick the ball into the gaping space
Little goals in life require hard work
At my second home
What I do is never predefined
I can do whatever my heart pleases.
Work, or mess around
Either way I’m satisfied
Relish the moment
In my second home, I’m working
In my second home, I’m living
In my second home,
I am accomplished.