近乡情怯

清晨的台北，带着一丝潮湿与熟悉的气息。

空气裡彷彿还残留着年青的影子，

那些早已远去的岁月，却在此刻悄然甦醒。

我站在这片土地上，心中百感交集。

这不是第一次回来，

却是最深刻的一次——

原来，离开得越久，

越接近时，反而越不敢靠近。

这，便是「近乡情怯」。

街道依旧延伸，车流依旧穿梭，

但我记忆中的台北，

却停留在另一个年代。

那时的我们，

年轻、贫苦，却充满希望；

在动盪与不安中，

一步一步，走向未知的远方。

如今再回首，

这座城市已然繁华，

高楼林立，灯火璀璨。

而我们的人生，

也早已歷经风霜，走过千山万水。

我不禁问自己——

当年的那个少年，

是否还在？

还记得母亲的背影，

在风雨与颠沛中，守护着这个家；

翻山越岭的艰辛，

在她沉默的坚毅中，被一一承受。

今天站在这裡，

我彷彿又看见她的身影，

在记忆深处，静静地凝望着我。

台北，从来不只是城市。

它是一段歷史，

是一种牵掛，

更是一份永远无法割捨的情感。

我们走得再远，

终究，还是从这裡出发。

而人生最深的感触，或许正是——

当你终於可以从容归来，

却发现，

最难跨越的，从来不是距离，

而是时间。

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.