Mind Nomad Writing

If pressed to share an accounting, I doubt I could.

If asked to retrace the steps, I might have a rough blueprint.

If given time to elaborate, it might become more clear.

If provided the courtesy shown to a weary traveler, there could be some color added and perhaps even a few landscapes placed to help you see the path – to help you understand the terrain I know so intimately that I forgot its name – or if it even has one at all.

     But to what end? Why spill the ink? 

Why labor to find the exact right words? 

Why respond to the demands for me to do so?

I waited and prepared for giving an accounting – as I rehearsed the direction of each footstep and sketched the patterns, waiting to share – to explain – to be offered rest – to be understood

They never came

I’ve learned to keep the accounts of my nomadic travels to myself. I’ve been taught to log my wandering steps in the safety of my own mind where the glow of curiosity expands and clarifies the wandering trail. I’ve found comfort in exile.

#Parentify Me Capin’