近鄉情怯

清晨的台北，帶著一絲潮濕與熟悉的氣息。

空氣裡彷彿還殘留著年青的影子，

那些早已遠去的歲月，卻在此刻悄然甦醒。

我站在這片土地上，心中百感交集。

這不是第一次回來，

卻是最深刻的一次——

原來，離開得越久，

越接近時，反而越不敢靠近。

這，便是「近鄉情怯」。

街道依舊延伸，車流依舊穿梭，

但我記憶中的台北，

卻停留在另一個年代。

那時的我們，

年輕、貧苦，卻充滿希望；

在動盪與不安中，

一步一步，走向未知的遠方。

如今再回首，

這座城市已然繁華，

高樓林立，燈火璀璨。

而我們的人生，

也早已歷經風霜，走過千山萬水。

我不禁問自己——

當年的那個少年，

是否還在？

還記得母親的背影，

在風雨與顛沛中，守護著這個家；

翻山越嶺的艱辛，

在她沉默的堅毅中，被一一承受。

今天站在這裡，

我彷彿又看見她的身影，

在記憶深處，靜靜地凝望著我。

台北，從來不只是城市。

它是一段歷史，

是一種牽掛，

更是一份永遠無法割捨的情感。

我們走得再遠，

終究，還是從這裡出發。

而人生最深的感觸，或許正是——

當你終於可以從容歸來，

卻發現，

最難跨越的，從來不是距離，

而是時間。

A Hesitation Near Home — Taipei**

Morning in Taipei carries a quiet humidity,

as if the air itself remembers the past.

I stand upon this familiar land,

yet my heart is filled with an unfamiliar trembling.

It is not my first return—

but it is the most profound.

The longer one has been away,

the closer one gets,

the harder it becomes to step forward.

This is what we call

“hesitation upon nearing home.”

The streets stretch as they always have,

cars move in restless streams,

yet the Taipei in my memory

belongs to another time.

Back then,

we were young, poor, yet full of hope—

moving forward through uncertainty,

chasing a future we could not yet see.

Today, the city stands transformed—

taller, brighter, more magnificent than ever.

And we, too,

have been shaped by time,

weathered by journeys across mountains and oceans.

I ask myself quietly—

is that young boy still within me?

I remember my mother—

her silent strength,

her unwavering endurance

through hardship and exile.

In this moment,

standing here again,

I feel as though she is still watching—

somewhere deep within my memory.

Taipei is not merely a city.

It is history,

it is longing,

it is a bond that can never be severed.

No matter how far we go,

this is where our journey began.

And perhaps the deepest truth of life is this—

when we finally return with grace and certainty,

we realize

the greatest distance we must cross

is not space,

but time.