Thirty

Trapped by a thousand beautiful responsibilities,
tethered to them,
I’ve silenced the Wanderer inside of my soul.

Silenced.
Hushed.
Quieted.
Choked.

Her longing cries call out to be heard.
Silence Her I try.

Quiet drives for no reason at all.
Sudden turns down unknown paths.
They only keep Her at bay for a time,
Her silence purchased so cheaply could not last long.

She must go free.
She must roam in order to understand once again.
Understand why She, yes, She, the ever wanderer, chose this.
Chose this.

She must long for this once again, or I fear She’ll forever be lost to these things I love.
She needs the smells of exotic lands,
the chaos of those uncharted streets,
the sounds,
the people,
the rhythm of the unknown.

There

    must

be adventure… true adventure.
Without it, I risk forgetting who She is,
forgetting the heart and soul of this beautiful thing I am,
and the place She brought me to.

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2 responses to “Thirty

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