And do I not sit awake these empty nights,
thinking long thoughts and desiring to weep,
my feet and my heart urging me to get up
and go, no matter the cost or the pain,
urging me, "Go hither and live."

And yes, I did love...do love,
many things and many people,
other seekers, other wanderers,
some children of the empty places
such as I, and others perhaps prophets
or saints who do not yet know their power.

Did I not wake from a dream with sand in my shoe,
wondering if sand I had tread upon or within,
knowing that deep inside it was true;
I had never worn those shoes upon the shore
of any beach, anywhere.

I do not want this, such a calling as it is,
feeling the wind upon my face
and hearing whispers in the dark,
a presence following me,
pressing me onward.

My chest hurting from too many cigarettes,
and my heart aching from too many losses,
and my legs aching from too long going
without sitting astride a horse.

How do I begin to explain all of this
to someone new, to a soul I have no
knowledge of save drunken small talk
and the small things that we remember
we do?

Does it all return to the sound of wind
and the shaking of a tent pole,
lovers embracing in the dark,
sweet and content in togetherness,
as I ponder what next I must do?