Writing Prompt

Not all those who wander are lost,

Not all those have family are loved,

Not all those who have a house have a home,

For some to be lost is to be safe,

For some to be safe is to be lost,

For some to be loved is to gavel family,

For some to have family is to be loved,

Not all those who are lost are free,

Not all those who are free are lost,

Not all those who are lived have a family,

Not all those...

You may see the tall evergreens above you and the cloudy sky along with the snow-feathered mountains behind the trees

You may feel your feet's steps into the soft earthy soil and the chilly air

You may hear owls hooting and cooing and the soft flap of their feathered wings

You may taste fresh air on your tongue and humidity

You may smell the sharp, crisp scent of pine and fir needles, the ric...

Not all those who wander are lost

Some of those who wander

Choose to wander

They like the wandering

They like getting lost

They like seeing the new things

The people

They are the people who try

Who see the good...

This is for all the cows and horses who roam the grass of green

Daisy fields filled with their yellow and white heads to be seen

They are silently grouped together as lifetime field mates

Gathering and dining and waiting for the opening of gates

Sometimes there are other mates like the baby lamb and sheep

You could see them mixed grazing waiting till the stars sleep

So as the busy humans work a...

Footsteps find their way,

though no map marks where they go

their heart's a compass....

Some are like the flower that lived to see the frost.

Wandering with the others but far from lost.

But searching for the magic that is always consistent.

Settling for those that last an instant.

Conversing with the critters who also freely roam.

Beneath the stars will always be home.

So put your raft in an unknown spring.

Let the universe do its thing....

I am a little bit of everything

Half plastic and half dirt.

My roots don’t grow from just one tree—

They spread across the earth.

Through grooves and tunnels

Old and new

The trodden and unknown.

Though I may wander far and wide

My body knows it’s home...

People always asked her when she would settle down.

As if the world had only one acceptable destination.

As if the map was already drawn.

She never answered directly.

She would only smile—soft, knowing—and continue walking.

She walked through cities where no one knew her name.

Through forests where the wind tangled in her hair.

Through small towns where she stayed just long enough to learn the l...

The fog rolls lazily over the lake as I stare out over the fire. I feel it in every moment. The stiffness in my leg never really went away. But these cold fall days really leave me stiff and sore. Maybe I'm getting old. Maybe.

The percolator bubbles lazily over the hot coals. Food for the soul as much as the scenery is. Something about campfire coffee. Its just better. As I sit and pour the stea...

The fur on my neck sticks up

when I hear their howling song

But I don't respond but

tuck my tail between my legs

and turn the other way

I wander through the dying trees knowing

I am helpless and alone

For my pack, they have abandoned

me because I claim

to be the runt

The trees have stopped breathing

And the wind has stopped speaking

This part of the wood is unknown

to them and the rest of the fo...