I know I haven't been there,
yet I feel as if I know how those streets would feel underneath my feet.
I can visualize how the light hits the buildings each day at sunset and how the air smells each morning as the sun comes up.
I can imagine the sounds of the bird's cheerful chirps mixed into the constant chatter from the chorus of passerbys.
And if I think hard enough, I swear I can taste the sweetness of a pastry that I've never actually held in my hand.
Still I know I haven't been there.
I’ve not walked those streets and I've never seen, smelled, heard or tasted anything within that place.
Yet in every sense, I am already there.
Rooted in longing and unformed certainty.
And perhaps that is enough for now.
AO Poetry 
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