wandering

Sometimes it takes a wrong turn to get you to the right place.

Sometimes when you lose your way, you find YOURSELF.

It is growing cold. Winter is putting footsteps in the meadow. What whiteness boasts that sun that comes into this wood! One would say milk-colored maidens are dancing on the petals of orchids. How coldly burns our sun! One would say its rays of light are shards of snow, one imagines the sun lives upon a snow crested peak on this day. One would say she is a woman who wears a gown of winter frost that blinds the eyes. Helplessness has weakened me. Wandering has wearied my legs.

In the boundaryless forests, there__e dancers of nude.Yet in the confines of pasture, there__ promise of food.On which is your side?_, but tarry and bide,ere you decide,in both do confide.

I am a free soul, singing my heart out by myself no matter where I go and I call strangers my friends because I learn things and find ways to fit them into my own world. I hear what people say, rearrange it, take away and tear apart until it finds value in my reality and there I make it work. I find spaces in between the cracks and cuts where it feels empty and there I make it work.

From the very beginningperplexing and wanderingfrom one ocean to anotheran everlasting wander

Visions from the gods are gifts alone for those who wander.

6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,and I still don__ know which month it was thenor what day it is now.Blurred out linesfrom hangovers to coffeeAnother vagabond lost to love.4am alone and on my way.These are my finest moments.I scrub my skinto rid me from youand I still don__ know why I cried.It was just something in the way you took my heart and rearranged my insides and I couldn__ recognise the emptiness you left me with when you were done. Maybe you thought my insides would fit better this way, look better this way, to you and us and all the rest.But then you must have changed your mindor made a wrongbecause why did youleave?6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,and I still don__ know which month it was thenor what day it is now.I replace cafés with crowded bars and empty roads with broken bottlesand this town is healing me slowly but still not slow or fast enough because there__ no right way to do this.There is no right way to do this.There is no right way to do this.

What if it's the thereand not the herethat I long for?The wanderand not the wait,the magicin the lost feetstumbling downthe faraway streetand the way the moonnever hangsquite the same.

Life is less about finding and more about seeking.

There is no sweeter pleasure than wandering aimlessly about.

i took a night drive.i needed to get away.i needed to knowit's okay to goand have no destination,where time moves slowor doesn't exist.that life can be like this,aimless wandering,just breathing,living,driving forever underneath the stars.

Now that I am past picking the knife to stab one, the reward of stabbing a few more comes at an unfairly lower risk!

I am running and singing and when it__ raining I__ the only one left on the open street, smiling with my eyes fixed on the sky because it__ cleaning me. I__ the one on the other side of the party, hearing laughter and the emptying of bottles while I peacefully make my way to the river, a lonely road, following the smell of the ocean. I__ the one waking up at 4am to witness the sunrise, where the sky touches the sea, and I hold my elbows, grasping tight to whatever I__e made of myself.

THE KEY TO A WONDERFUL LIFEThe key to a wonderful lifeIs to never stop wandering into wonder.Because to live a predictable life,Only fills a person with strife,And such a person will always be wondering:'What a limitless life could be lived beyond the lines?'Such is a question a curious spirit would never sit and ponder.So always pursue new ventures in your life,And be willing to open doors to different light;This is the only way to keep it magical and always filled with wonder.Days will feel shorter, but your happiness will grow stronger --Because living a life without curiosity and adventure,Is a stale life where days only feel longer andLonger.Poetry by Suzy Kassem

A person does not grow from the ground like a vine or a tree, one is not part of a plot of land. Mankind has legs so it can wander.

Half the world is wandering, the other half is lost.

Being lost without grasping the rather obvious fact that we are lost is by far the best guarantee we have that we__e going to stay lost.