Travel Poem

[juniperred]

Here we go again. Today's just a day for posting things I guess. Maybe that means I'll actually finish writing that story...

There's a wind blowing in my face
as I wait in the gold of the morning
there are planes to catch
and trains to ride
and seas stretching out to the horizon
I can see the Colluseum in it's time worn majesty
hear the snap of sails in the wind
smell the hot trampled grasslands of Africa
feel the rough lintel where New Grange lies sleeping
taste dates and honey on the back of my tongue
My feet are bound about by the roots of the redwoods
and my hands reach for the dark places between the southern stars
I stand quiet in my room
cradled by the day
but the wind's gone racing with the morning
and my spirit's wrapped within