A nomad doesn’t have a home,

A bird must spread its wings.

That is why I always roam,

A voice that needs to sing.

A wild dog can use no leash,

No chain to hold me back.

The call I feel — an endless reach,

Like a magnet, it attracts.

Like a wanted fugitive,

I’m always on the move.

There’s no one place I want to live,

Too many for me to choose.

A melting pot of cultures,

Chasing new experience.

In the desert with the vultures,

Then living like a prince.

To tundras in the arctic,

I’ve seen the northern lights.

Every place cathartic,

New tastes with every bite.

Then I return to motherland,

Meet with family and friends.

See their children, their careers and,

Hear they save but not spend.

I think the grass is browner here,

In my gut I’ll still trust.

So off I trot — plane ticket near,

I love my wanderlust.