Beckon
Cotton-candy cumulus clouds beckon
Me follow their course ever upward and
Over my limiting horizon to
Vista viewpoints where paths never trod
Stretch ‘cross limitless imagination.
I must go, I am called, to be true
To my immortal soul; Staying safe here
Is to shrivel-shrink, dying day by day.
Please don’t stand by my station shedding tears.
Pack your bags! Say farewell yourself, shackles
Of Sameness shrug off. Be impatient with
Me to see what Beauty we discover
In overlooked corners and by-paths
Trodden by pilgrims questing renewal.
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