I am a nomadic, a gypsy soul wandering this universe once again and perhaps the next. Roaming and roving, gathering new experience, sights and sounds. Rolling through this time, last time and next.
It's name is wanderlust. Restless feet ever moving forward, backward and beyond. To fill the soul. To commune with the universe that is, that was and is to be.
I stop for a time, perhaps a while. I soak in the knowledge there is to find. Experience what is there. See what is to see.
To hear, to sense, to smell, to feel, to see, to taste, to touch. To breathe in what is now. Than to move on to the next.
To feel the earth, smell it's sweetness while dry, parched by the sun and barren. While it is wet soaked by the rain. While frozen by the ice and snow to see suspended in time. To feel it as it is again reborn bounding with new life.
We meet. Another soul known before. We know. Our eyes speak -- we move towards one another. We hear the music of our souls. The music we've known before. For music is the thread through time and time again binding us to one another.
Our souls sing. Our hearts dance. Our bodies meet and entertwine, we dance the dance we know so well -- we move on -- apart again, we roam alone to find what we can find, to see what we can see, to be what we can be. Must be.
For I am ever flowing, ever merging, ever moving as the rivers and the seas. Leaving small imprints of my soul. Touching lightly another's soul. Morphing each generation that i am. Ever learning, ever changing.
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