I feel the same as I first felt
When walking out at longest last,
Not knowing, though, my going spelt
The final break with all things past.
But now there’s nothing left to lose;
I’m guileless as a newborn lamb,
And so I choose the words I use:
It isn’t who but that I am.
I rove and roam from sea to sea
And leave behind both hope and fear,
And everyone I meet is me,
And everywhere I go is here.
I’m not about to end my ways
When every day’s the day of days.
Photo by Nicholas Sampson on Unsplash
