Enigma

First, there is always

the thrill of discovery.

A new place. New trails.

Mapping out borders,

setting boundaries

and claiming them.

We build ourselves,

brick by brick

into the comfortable clearings

of our experience, often with a view.

There we settle, cozy

in our easy chairs.

I, however, am not done exploring you.

Nomad, vagabond, wanderer.

I have warmed myself at the fire

I set merrily in your clearing

and now take off

into your dark woods,

your still secret places,

your still, secret places.

I will travel your back roads,

blaze my own trails through your wilderness

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white-space:pre-wrap;”>far off the highways other men have driven down.

I, the explorer, will pluck the flowers

from your hidden groves

and come to know your landscape

in ways no other knows.