In the Wild, Far From My Home

Ain't it wild the things that have passed? The things we thought would change, the things we thought weren't gonna last? (remember picnics on the park grass? that was awesome) Movies with friends, weddings on the sand, rock and roll concerts on demand (we are all furious to high heaven, surely, but we understand) And things I thought would stay the same? Well, poetry, for one thing That muse of mine, she's stealthy like a switchblade, as untimely as a hand grenade (certainly the longest game of hide 'n' seek I've ever ever played) Forty moons gone, now back again (who am I now? who was I then?) Is it the same ole me ablaze in positivity and dripping honesty? Or was I just chameleon-like as my Muse was (certainly well hidden but still in the vicinity) Maybe it's similar to our unusual circumstance; undoubtedly disturbing at a glance, but take a closer look and see, it's still our Earth with all our dreams inter-weaved. It's still You. It's still Me. Yes. The world closed. Uncertainty grows. And yet despite it all, the river still flows. (that's just the way it goes) And as for me and where I've been? You need only ask the wind... (or maybe even a hobbit could enlighten you) I was "there and back again" like Bilbo Baggins would have quipped Full of beans, jumping with juvenescence (but no Fountain of Youth did I sip) For you see - the search party was unwarranted - I was just taking the scenic route (no cause for alarm or wild scheme to undergo) Some were just taking the high road, I was taking the low... I was in the wild, far from my home A sojourner passing through with nothing on my person, but my own peculiar point of view And in the plains of intermission did I roam (only the stars knew I wasn't alone my inner man was with me, too) No Holy Grail did I seek, nor Elixir of Life, nor Cave of Great Treasures, nor Grave and Important Truth ... I just wandered Wandered for wonderment's sake Lost in the beauty of those valleys, the majesty of those hills, with too many sacred moments to tally I could have wrote a stanza, a sonnet or two But you could see why I didn't (if you were looking at the same sky, too) My mind was an old man, but by my heart was a little child A conundrum none need untangle Just take a step back and let the breeze push your back... ...into the wild PS: I wanna thank whoever it was that hosted the Wild Contest. While I didn't make it in time to enter, my thoughts remain the same that the writing is it's own reward.