Oh, I don’t care for this climate, latitude

social system or feng shui.

The sort of houses here, the music, food

are uncomfortable, boring or strange.

 

We are an adventurous, global species

so I am free to zap off and discover

my dream home and  hearts desire,

 the earthly spot that calls.

if I have the wherewithal.

 

There is just one blip to this plot.

I don’t belong.

In fact, it all belongs to someone else.

So however much I want and covet it

I am alien. An interloper.

(.... tourist, speculator, parasite...)

 

even the ETs did

It is not only my need and wish,

what my gut and nose tells me.

I have every excuse and good reason:

coming from war zones

escaping from persecution

running from famine and drought

looking for work, seeking a fortune,

to find answers - Love, Peace, God.

 

I am no itinerant prospector

searching for pleasure, safety or fame.

It is not idle curiosity that leads me on

but the Destination itself

drawing my own compass unerringly

imperiously: This way!

 

Back to, on to where I belong!

 

For there is one place alone

where I am truly home.

Whether born there, ancestors there

worked or married there.

My body knows

and the soil itself welcomes me.

Until, unless, gypsy soul

that root is in my nomad tribe, my loves;

even anchored in my own trembly heart.

Gaia complicit.