I must miss the chaos,
Or the promise of surprise,
Or the perfect excuse to relax.
Why else would I feel so lost now I know where I'm going?
I wanted to be missing,
Searching,
Wandering with no goal,
But now all those mysteries I craved have been solved.
I know how to get there now,
I recognise each step,
Like a path I've walked before,
Not at home,
But maybe an early morning in Ireland,
Where we stayed for a while,
Where I used to wander,
Like remembering a picture,
But not quite sure when it was,
Each step feels like that.
Like a memory,
Not a journey.