To say that I am a wanderer is
to vastly overstate the reality.
I have wandered quite a bit
in my life, but that wandering
was always predicated on happenstance
and a true wanderer, by definition,
wanders with the intent of doing so.
I was never looking for anything
merely a sense of direction, an idea
of how I got to this point, what
forces of which I could not
be aware had nonetheless brought
me to the place I now find myself.
I thought I knew once, but that
was a delusion belonging to those
who took me in, but never mine.
I found crumbs in my search,
followed them only to learn they
were left to mislead, and so I
gave up until the day I stumbled
on what my cells always knew
and could not say, and now
am whole if not the person I had
imagined, but the person who
I was meant to be.