/The joy of walking on old stairs, built on new stones and the fragrance of fresh paint is scintillating//
I am always happy to visit home
yet worried seeing it
that a place might be different
from what I think it will look like,
Even if a colour gets a little brighter
than what I had in my mind
Anxiety is like being stuck in past home while living in a new house.
I have moved on, I did,
We have new flowers here
all are different
none of them belong here
or to each other
They seem distant.
Grass is greener here, too much green.
Abundance has never been this shallow.
From my window
sunsets are blue,
Sky is pretty as always.
Sea is in harmony with the wind
But I’m worried of rain.
I am trying to adjust here
I eventually will.
Prompt: Metaphor for anxiety by Silverleafpoetry