Here I go again,
but at least
toward the horizon,
off the endless looping trail
that was but an adventure illusion,
for even though each day differed
upon that familiar path,
the way it returned me back again
made my soul so restless.
I itched not to be reckless
nor carefree
but for a reassurance
that I was where I was meant to be,
but all the dreaming I did
beneath the wishing stars
filled me with the growing belief
that my true north
was neither fantasy nor far,
so here I go again
but not to loop around:
I’m headed for the horizon
treading upon new ground
in desperate search
of nothing,
but open to being
found.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
Laura Denise 