My mind, spinning red like the spokes of your bicycle,
Dazed by halted slumber, lying flat and still.
The weight of Doubt pressed his callused hands
Upon my chest and at my laudable resistance,
He laughs.

I sink.

Dreams laced too vividly with haze-dusted fears,
Lasting in wake as only nightmares can.
Gaining strength with each repression,
Defiant, cold, and sharp,
Burns into thought to tease this somber heart.

Soaring downhill,
Wheels spin in unison without control.
The friction of conflicting realities
Ignite the fire in my core.
Cooling tears of salt and guilt fail to douse the flames.

Snapshots from the dreaming reel,
Float,
Snide toward my gated heart.
Falling.
Slow.
Elegant as sonnets torn in cruel haste
From the gold-gilded diary of a closet poet.

Naïve child, unaware to the ways you were
Shaping me, providing the tools
I never asked for, use daily, and continue to master.

You knew, could see it in my stare,
That my appetite for adventure,
For changing horizons and challenged beliefs,

Would conquer my desire for roots.
Too young to settle for unanswered questions
And lingering curiosity.

My sense of wonder, enriched by
Nights spent gazing in appreciation
At the ever-changing moon.

On a quest, destined to last a lifetime,
Constantly searching, for undetermined answers,
The mystery of which set my soul aflame.

This urge to explore, not quite inheritable
Rather, fostered when we had no other choice.
Now, encouraged, regardless of the endeavor.

“Make your life work for you”
Words from you, spoken with such verity, they stuck
Providing courage to seek past what is given.

Venture, though I may, never does my heart stray far,
For home is not merely a destination,
But a cherished state of mind.