We'll wander, my band of gypsies and I.
not because we are lost
but because we have found our roving spirits
to be happiest in motion.
We'll sleep wherever our heavy heads
find themselves a place,
and bathe in the mountain streams,
and adorn ourselves with dirt, and dandelions, and dreams.
And we'll wander, my gang of rogues and I
in search of nothing
and with the hope of everything.
We'll worship in the cathedrals of the forest,
our scriptures hidden in the stained and bent pages
of cherished old books
read by the light of the fireflies.
And we'll wander, my crew of pirates and I
wearing silly hats
over wind-tangled hair
living in cars or caves
or circus tents, whatever comes our way.
We'll laugh at the jokes
no one else understands
and dance around the fire
all night to the rhythm of the
songs only we can play.
And we'll wander, my family of miscreants and I
not looking for home, but bringing home with us
to the fields and trees
to the stars and seas
our homes will be upon the lonely beaches
and the spare rooms of friends and lovers.
We'll love and share
and carry on
we'll all have each other
and the breeze
and the photos and stories
the remember when's
and the yet to be's
and, always, we'll wander.
