Wander Wisely

The joys of Wanderlust.

I traverse the world in tired streaks,
like clouds that wreath the earth, blot out the Sun.
That glows in the colors of joy as planes pass by
Its golden eye.

Rhythmed drumbeats speak of new horizons,
new divides yet to cross,
Of wagging tongues and oceanspray.
words turned black on distant fires.

I am home, and yet not,
the Sirens call, the waves crash.
I turn back toward familiar shores,
I am home, and yet not.