November's crisp wind
Yielding the long ignored lust
For wonder, wanderlust
Be it transparent; paths no longer followed
The earth revered
Pivoting
An axis of existence
Absent of life; who, therefore
Capitulates to bitter blue?
A lack of dreaming
A lake of practicality
Energy; thoughts unraveling at the seams
When crystal is clear, as they are forming
Paths; a hasty consternation for life
To be pursued
Lived - not to only exist
And to lust, as November air brings this forth
Wander - a path to wonder