Wandering waves.

That’s where I belong. That island across the water. Where the clouds give way to streams of light as the heavens bless my home.

Come wind or wave it’s always there, beyond the reach of others. A sight seen in a distant glimpse where all things are as they should be.

It is the reason that I travel, that I wander the world as I do. A never ending march to home, and free from others’ view.

It is there across the water, where no other can set foot. It is there with shafts of light from clouds which bring the rains to me.

But always is it there, far out across the water. And it moves with those pillars of light which come from sun through cloud and lambent upon the surface.

Forever there I wander, only ever out of reach. The home I hope one day to catch, or else that it catch me.

 

 

 

A prompt response.