today i went for a walk in the park
and saw all that my life was meant to be

the waiting sky i thought, was what I
might have painted
if I painted
and if I pictured things the way they could be,
not the way they might have been

the trees whispered to me words
which I might have written
if I wrote
and if I could translate the dread in my head
into a language others might understand

and all the people showed me who I wasn’t
and who I would never have been
a diversity seen between beech trees and picnics
does not mean I have to be any one of them
but myself

every passerby
a reminder, a promise
that not all those who wander are lost
and that paths don’t have to cross
and that humans are nomadic by nature
and soon
soon i’ll move on