As I walked closer to Tibet, my homeland, after all the years of my escape into exile,

I can see the snowy mountains bowing down to receive me in their cold, yet warm arms.
I can hear the winter wind singing welcoming songs through the willow trees.

I can see the rivers and rivulets running up to receive me down through the valleys.

I can sense heavenly smells running deep down through my nostrils and nerves.

I can see the Yaks and Sheep lined in thousands greeting me with a standing ovation.

I can see the Rhodiola and rhododendron standing at unusual heights as I walked.

I can see the juniper and willow trees dancing on the hills as they saw me return.

I can sense the sunflowers and the red roses receiving me in their best colors and scents.

I can see the crow and cranes flapping feathers together as they receive me.

I can smell the smoke coming from our chimney with the aromas of different dishes.

I can see the siblings stretching their arms in their wildest smiles to reach and receive me.

I can also see the border and boundaries marked with patrolling police.

I can also understand that there is no way I can cross the border and enjoy their welcome.