Embarking to greater unknowns,
I traverse miles of pavement and dirt,
hours of resigned patience,
with still the same feet.
Surroundings and perceivers,
eclose from a chrysalis,
yet static and steadfast
remains their center.
Only my face reveals
an alien
in other worlds.

Dreams have better homes
at the horizon of possibility.
Most never venture
so far to discover
a mirage that will never quench
dying thirst.

My identity is
that of the masses and
obligation cannot find me.
Goodbye, heart of hearts,
soul of souls,
objects of desire!
My gait is relieved
of yearning that will
cripple it no longer.

Still, I despise the platitudes
loneliness forces upon me.
I remember that
absence cried loudest.
But I tire of searching for home
and finding the door bolted,
or the walls made from cards.

Nothing to run from,
to run to,
where does one go?

The child knows.
But her wisdom falters
in the hands of the enlightened man.
Must he throw himself
into the futile,
or else float in an abyss?

return to the horizon
and birth the child in me.