Not all those who wander are lost.

Wandering through the streets,
Where everything's to be seen.
I'm walking with no direction,
Skipping through skies blue and grasses green.

Where ever the sun is shining.
I'll follow where the flowers bow,
I'll trace a shy butterfly,
Because when then, if not now?   


I don't have a destination,
I'm open to every journey,
There's no too late for discovery,
Any hour is early.

So show me all the summers,
Take me to every frost.
Not all those who wander,
can be considered lost.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

You are enough

Life is complex in it's simplicity.

I used to be