Lost wanderers

And they started...
On a long road.
Miles of journey.
One burning desire.
To reach their homes,
to that embrace of love.
Setting skies did not matter.
Nor did rising sun.
Like birds at eventide,
they flew back,
to their only shelter in this storm.
Migrants,
that’s what they call them,
these itinerants afoot,
yearning, pining for their nests.
In verity though,
we are all migratory birds.
Tiny specks,
lost wanderers on this atlas.
Ramblers in search of our haven,
somewhere within the deepest,
quietest chambers of our own heart,
where the soul strums in rhythm.
Definitely, a long road ahead.
Miles of journey,
meandering curves,
wilderness too.
One burning desire.
To reach home.

Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt