3.4
December 23, 2020

I Long to be where the Wildflowers Grow. {Poem}

It all ended with you.

Or perhaps this is where it all began.

You see now I am a chaser.

Some may call me a wanderer,

but all I am doing is pulling up wildflowers.

I long to see their roadway roots

between my fingertips.

Feel how the earth allowed them to grow so wild.

So pure. 

How this is the reason 

for their simple existence.

I long to memorize how I can become this too.

If their petals were to look up at me,

they would see I am still chasing answers.

I’m still following my roots 

looking for a place to properly grow.

My stems have walked to the edge of the world and back. 

Each step heavier than the next. 

With each city I find, 

I search for a crack to sink into.

But the sidewalks always seem so full. 

~

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