If I could

If I Could /Mike Lim

If I could,

I would make my longing weightless—

a single white cloud

gliding beyond the mountain crest,

touching no leaf,

troubling no silence,

not even the distant echo of your name.

The mountains remain still.

Morning gathers upon their shoulders,

layer after quiet layer,

washing the years

in tender shades of jade.

The words I never found

linger somewhere within the mist,

waiting only for the passing wind

to carry them,

like a whisper

meant for no one,

yet heard by all.

My heart

has always belonged to the road—

gathering fallen blossoms

wherever they surrendered,

leaving yesterday

at every bend.

Not because memory has faded,

but because I have learned

that clouds are born to wander,

mountains are faithful to the turning seasons,

and every path

is destined

to disappear beyond another horizon.

Yet still,

so long as one clear sky

remains within me,

every farewell

becomes another way home;

every ridge I climb

reminds me

that longing

is never the distance between hearts,

but the quiet light

that keeps the traveler walking.

And so I go on—

bearing the lightness of clouds,

the stillness of mountains,

and a heart

that has never forgotten

how to believe.

Written on June 25, 2026.