Everywhere Comes Back To Me
My travelling shoes
got up early,
they had hydraulic jump-starts.
Countries spun my head around
while I discovered lands
only Albatross dream of
in a limitless sky.
Across many countries
I loop-di-looped,
crop-seeding my
ever seeking mind.
The trips and treks
trudged to a stop
in the late middle ages
of my historically mobile plod.
Now the world comes to me,
to reveal all I missed.
The nooks and crannies
of distant plateaus and valleys,
stones left un-turned,
faces posted from places
once so sea-sealed
or landlocked,
only the address-less
could find them now.
Everywhere comes to my door
entering announced
by wind-blown Tibetan cloud horns.
I open a carriage window
in a train of thoughts
and let that 3-D atlas
of all that was overlooked
chug on by,
watching from my roost
and long anticipated
nest of rest.
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