Pilgrims
Stranger in a stranger land,
shapeless forms on shifting sands,
the awake and ever-searching self,
a walk without an end in sight.
We leave our bags at the airport,
abandon our shoes in the ocean,
fly a kite only to see where it takes us,
pursue our wanderings into tomorrow.
We set sail and hope never to return,
wish away our whole life on a maybe,
rock the times just to stay true to our souls,
dig deep inside to find the thing to live for.
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, February 2, 2025
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