I wonder what my destination will bring. Prone to the gypsy life I have no home, I’ve known of no home, I can’t seem to find it, and it has yet to find me. Though I keep searching for my final place of rest I keep hoping, I keep going. Looking for the arms I can settle in and lay down this armor only to begin.
Am I here for you or are you here for me? Answer please? When will I know it? I can’t seem to know it. I can’t feel it. Am I travelling for you or do you travel for me and to me? Will you ever make yourself known, when will it be?
Will I ever know the other side of which I travel? Or will it know me, come to me, and find me in its safety? Time, time, and time again, not knowing what will come next or who it might be. My lost and restless soul looking for its other soul. What else is my soul for? As if one soul for another equal and captivating soul. Will there be a word of farewell or a lasting embrace? Or must my travels leave it this way?
Does my past speak of my future? I long to travel beyond what I’ve known rather than some used to be. How life seems to be so unkind. My soul keeps turning in the hands of the unknown, will you see me, will you leave me, is there time to grow?
Strangers come. What will they bring? I bring to it and what will it render? Life as I know it has become a life I have never known. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I dream of a future life beyond all my life. Will it ever be?
My soul against this world and the world against my soul. My soul can hardly stand it. My restless soul travelling through the halls of the cosmic sphere. My soul searching for its other soul. There must be something better than this. But I cannot find it. It has yet to come. Or come the way I thought it should be.
Traveling to the next place, without an itinerary and without a trace. I must depart now, there is much I must do. What may appear as right may be for a moment. Oh my soul, my soul within a soul. There is only one soul for my soul. How else could our souls exist unless they existed before? Pulling me in with such gravitational force. I am he and he is I, we are one and we are I. Love began before time, before time travel. Yet time had to come for our souls to be one.
Where he is I am there also. My travels are his and his are mine. Our souls travel in infinite time. Created for one another, for each other, there is nothing else that satisfies.
An anomaly traveler.
Part II Coming soon
Copyright @ The Word in Motion. 2021
Photocredit: from the Hubble Space Telescope