Traveler

Sweeping, billowing, like a cloud-beacon

Enveloping the senses

Nestling into my skin

Sounds everywhere, unseen

A traveler I’ve become

Climbing over fences

Winding down rivers

Ever searching, not quite knowing

What I might find

Where I will find it

Or who it could be

That beacon guides me yet

I’m drowned in its light

Blind to all else–

It is what I am, and all that I’ll be.