Mantra

Every morning a new pillow, a new layout for the mapping. We wait for our next flight and cannot for the life of us remember if we’ve been there before. In thirteen years too many places seen and every ocean looks the same. This looks like that time I was living in Spain. This looks like when we drove through California. Tastes like chicken. Remember?

And still all I keep thinking is how little of this world I’ve seen. How short the life and how long the road.

If I want to see it all, I’ve no time to settle.

I’m grateful the question's been put to rest.