~Vagabond~

Pass me

Hints of truth

Under mirrored sunsets

The ticking of the clock

Dripping water

Silence

Gets to be a lot

Deafening within walls

I wonder

Who painted the birds

To calm the storms

On the paths

We wa;k on

A different

Kind of fine

A different

Kind of mess

Where there’s comfort

In the chaos

My soul

Is fluttering in and out

It’s not the mountain

We conquer

But ourself

Direction is relative

Wherever you are

Go there

Too much to be contained

Life is meant to be a vagabond

                                               ~Sarah Mahina Calvello