Wanderlust

I want to plant a field of roses

On every place my tears touched ground

Upon this planet that proposes

Illusions of home for those unbound

That offers homeland at low tide

For bamboo-hearts on foreign bays

They sprout new roots, hope to abide

Until the flood washes them away

The world would be a bed of flowers

Until I found a place called home

So I dry my tears, summon my powers

And wistfully pursue to roam

© Photo by Samoa Rider