I would travel to another land
to have no comfort near at hand
only strangers all around
so much freedom, so much fear
the latter I embrace with relish
because it alerts the mind
making me feel alive
outside of comfort’s arms.
Strange weather I’d not expect
views across the alien land
another place people live
not my own, somewhere else
with a structure almost normal
until I realize the disconnects
between A and B of my realm
turned to B and C in the elsewhere.
I’d like to dance to find comfort
grounding shared, habitual
may the residents hold my hand
show me how to do the same
warmth is the essential element
along with shelter and subsistence
these may keep me alive
a body’s heat would feed my soul.
Freedom is a word I’d use
when no connections can be found
responsibilities are far from hand
a starting place for discovery
there I’ll stretch wings held too close
in environs so long my place
there I’ll fly through another land
to find new comfort near at hand.
© 2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170205.