Fernweh

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Every mile that passes washes over like the rain
Laying on soaked concrete as the droplets deep into pores
Clinging to eyelashes
Sliding down the corners of my eyes in the trail tears follow
Wild woodland
Pointed peaks
Sapphire seas
Fields scattered as golden amber heads sway in mid fall breezes
I crawl to it
Begging to be given merely an ounce of what they hold
Freedom 
Just as the vultures ride upon currents of air
Seeking what others have tossed aside as refuse
Using it to not only sustain
But thrive 
I wish for bare soil
Blue skys
Or raging storms that clatter in the southern summers
I dream of places that exist
Ones that brush my finger tips
But are never close enough to grasp
Anything but another day of the monotony
For I fear it may turn me to stone
Cold
Unfeeling 
With eyes that no longer seek
Ears that no longer listen
Finger tips that don’t feel
A heart carved into my chest
That fades with time 
Until it is no longer there 

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