A gust of wind
blows a lone leaf.
Without its roots
it solemnly flies;
Finding nurishment
in these new lands.
Tis a bitter sweet sentiment
for the wind
shall soon return
wisking away
the lonely leaf
and sharing it
with the world.
Every new place
brings new blessings.
A temporary warmth
that sooths
the soul.
It finds companions;
Yet truly
owns no home.
The moments are fleet
as a single heartbeat.
Another gust,
and again,
it flys alone.
Surely,
the lonesome leaf
shall one day sleep
beneath the trees,
Taking root
in a loving place
for it to keep;
Shrouded
by the stars.
Untill the day
it makes its way,
Forever
Wayward.
Its 3am here in Madrid. Ive spent the past 30 minutes thinking this up. Ive tried to write others recently but its been hard to find my feelings. I want to put something up and i feel this is as close as it gets. My heart is a poet, but I'm lost to myself and forgot how to translate its language