The Wandering Soul

The Wandering Soul

 

 

Birthed in the sapphire seas of the Caribbean, already matching such beauty.

She was set to make her home where her heart resided.

To travel, and learn, and live, and never risk stagnation.

For the wandering soul does not abide the structures and order of man,

But instead makes her own way through the urban forests, unconcerned with station.

 

 From the cold, wintery landscape of the Northeast, to the swamps and cities of Florida,

She has forged a soul of heat and strength, unknown to others’.

Ablation has become her calling, melting down to reshape in betterment.

Dynamic, yet unchanging, she is hard for words to beatify.

Merely looking upon her, will cause your heart’s cowardice pulse, and then lament.

 

Now, the lone soul has found her way to the Lone Star,

And is shining brighter than even its famously starry skies.

Called for a reason, or none at all, but does it matter?

She has wandered and I have found, in fantastic wonderment,

That which we all stride, to meld and mend, and not leave tattered.