Wanderlust

Wanderlust 

 

My heart is not at home. 

 

I have searched for it 

In the rolling pastures of our green and pleasant lands.   

Across a sunlit meadow, the honey warmth of sunset soaking into the skin.   

Beneath the petals of a daisy.  In the shadow of the oldest oak. 

I have travelled through bright lights, dodged the camera's flash. 

Searched cobbled alleys, and empty faces of red brick. 

I have followed its path to the salty melancholy of the winter sea, 

Craving the bittersweet sting of sand and spray,  

To a lonely horizon 

Where once the troubles of a darkened heart were echoed, and purged. 

 

But my heart is in a new home 

 

I can sense it in the deepening blush of a blossom 

Sleepily trailing a delicate journey across the water’s edge. 

 

I see its fiery glint in the ombre of autumn 

Whirling in a painted sky, wreaking havoc through a bubble of serenity. 

 

I hear it in a stranger's voice. 

In a tornado of anonymity, bodies scurrying through the veins of the city. 

In the sacred silence of solitude. 

And the anticipation of a clink of glass, the promise of friendship solidified. 

 

My heart lies somewhere between old and new 

Kneeling at blessed ground  

And leaping skyscrapers 

Reaching beyond the very roof of the sky. 

 

Somewhere between deepest familiarity and terrifying unknown 

My heart has found a home 

Where it has gone, I know I must follow.

Reviews

[Curtis.Lenker]

Good work here. The emotion in this poem is amazing. I felt every line. This poem really hits me inside. Great job.