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I have no route, no destination.

There is no road where I’m going,

And no one has gone there before.


I will leave the concrete,

With its lies and its comforts,

For the jungle,

Which has malaria and despair.

Chance strikes every where.

Cities ignore it, but those who live by the earth befriend it.


There is no road where I am going.

Yes, I deny my father, and refuse my inheritance.

Neither the prodigal nor the priggish son,

I just left the farm one day,

Father weeping, but understanding.

By the way, I’m not a son,

I’m a daughter.


So even though the world is rough and he was scared,

He let me go, I remember his tears,

The fear in his voice,

And I prayed to come home safe.


But now I’m adrift-

Fate cut all my ties to the shoreline

I followed God’s call,

Only my soul is at the rudder.


Now I watch the birds,

Imprisoned in my ship,

To buy my freedom.


Women and slaves, they have a lot in common.

They are supposed to live and die for others.

Well, I would do the same- but the other will be of my choosing.

When I have a child, I will show him the sun,

I will not hide her from the grave.

I will give them to the sky,

And we’ll fly together,

To see all the worlds, all the planets.


And when I love,

It won’t be for comfort, or safety, or children.

It will be for love’s sake alone.

My heart beats even now with fear-

what of my life, my family, my children not yet conceived?

But I will love,

scary, terrifying, selfless as it seems.

I will love myself into being, and he’ll find me.

My children will always know they are angels,

Made entirely of love.


But until then, just the road,

And a few traveling companions.

Knowing there will be an end, or a bump, or at least a transition.

Knowing I can’t do this forever,

Knowing only that I’ll stop, someday, somewhere

But for now all I can do is keep going.