My falling out with the Cartographer was not absolute.
Though it's easy to notice when the deep gravity of the Universe,
has been reduced to the mundane whispers of the ordinary.

The strength of loyalty is tested in these blind walks of faith.
As the world unfolds beneath my feet, the mind too does wander.
Hidden worlds vibrate between reality and fiction.
I map this microcosm of the known, to reach the ever after.

And so it goes that in my purposeful aimlessness, I'll find the road back.
Every excuse will always be, but letting go will set me free.
Free to once again entangle creation's creativity.

comfort
is such a foreign zone
that I long for,

a land that I can't seem to
be able to spot
on any map,

people tell me
its borders are indefinite,

and i tell them,
please take me
to the mother
I have never known.

Intelligence is like a compass, in that it allows you to go a specific direction but is only useful in the context of the wilderness that you stand within. Without knowing where you are and where you are going, a compass will only help you stay the course towards an unknown destination. Wisdom is the map upon which the compass lies, that which gives sustained direction the context it needs to ensure the intended destination is reached.

The mouth is the small compass of the soul,
Without dials, true north, or magnetic force,
The ungaugeable instrument of the voice,
In directionless modulations of undertow,
To circumnavigate under cartographer’s pole
Stars guide our wayfinding-heirlooms of words.

In search
for something

A Map
A light
An Angel
A demon

Something

In these trees theres gotta be something
You cant hide a tree in a forest
I guarantee I will find it
Someway
Somehow
One day

I will find it
in my search
for something