Untitled

We are creatures with autobiographical
souls
we yearn to share our story
as we go
Yet none of us own a heart
that is unassuming
and there we wait to be
transformed
in the courtyard of our days
we wait in vain
where we devour our time
and drown our sense in nothing
that which we can see
or smell or taste or hear
there inside the recess of
my mind
a voice that whispers deliberately
draws me out
and I wish to know the places
that are new to my sight
and with every new place
I visit
something inside hails excitedly
I have been here
I have been here before