Nomadic Heart

I am a nomad of the heart, and it may be because I haven't found anyone who is the personification of sunshine or whose voice reminds me of flowers. I want to find my own, but I can't because I plainly have a roving heart unable to attach to anyone's energy and I end up stuck, floating in a peaceful stream. Being sent from near and far unaware of my woes because I am not stationary long enough to feel there weight.

Steadily drifting whether in spirit or by body able to detach and travel, itinerating and also hiding behind my wordiness because... it is easier to hide behind a wall of synonyms and well-placed commas than address the inner thought that impels my wandering spirit to label itself nomadic. I have the urge to just exist in a whole new realm of being. At this moment I am just trying to find someone who I can be infinite with who is better than my imagination who, despite life and its many changes, that I could just keep living and existing with. So I am fighting so that my search doesn't come to a halt, I start to be able to chew over the benefits of being nomadic.

I gain the ability to romanticize less often and to see things exactly how they are, and I am able to avoid wallowing in sentiment, and I revel in the newfound desire to wake up because I am no longer starving my heart, looking at barren areas without proper resources unable to give this nomad a reason to set up camp.

A self-sustained meal may not be gourmet and the soul-searching process to reach this stable meal may be a long and formidable movement, but the nourishment found redefines the meaning of "soul" food so the journey becomes worthwhile and after a while, in all that silence it gains the ability to be reimagined as solace, and Storms that seem torrential or destructive in one sight can become nourishing and vital for the vegetation that is being fertilized by the lighting and the rain.

Many points in our journey can be seen as storms but refocusing our gaze; we can see in us the momentous change being fertilized within us, regardless of the cliche the weight carries and the warmth covers us like sunshine. However long I have to migrate I expect the journey to exhaust me and if I find nothing at least I have memories that are unparalleled to my more settled peers. I refuse to starve my inner wandering as it fuels my search only setting up camp in a hub where I am fully satiated and when my imagination becomes dull. For now, my heart keeps roving and my energy just keeps floating along aware of the silence and embracing it like a blanket of warmth content with the journey thus far and patiently awaiting the climatic ending that is better than fiction.