The Wanderer

Sometimes in life we wander

From the path we originally intended

And whether it is excitement, curiosity, confusion, mischief,

Or a myriad of other causes,

We can easily stray down an unforeseen route.

However,

It is on the desolate highway of our life,

That we awaken with sudden clarity.

To our depravity.

To our transgressions.

To our purpose.

The Wanderer realizes this

And knows,

That the detours of their life

Were not detours,

but the truest paths of all.

To wander is to come home

To your truest Self.

Perhaps we never wander. 

-The Poet of Windy Blue

I wrote this poem in 2017 after recently graduating college and moving across the country to begin training as a Field Artillery officer at Fort Sill Oklahoma. Those days were full of uncertainty. On one hand I felt invigorated and passionate about the adventure that was beginning, but on the other hand I felt incredibly estranged from my family, friends, and roots. It was a topsy-turvy-time for sure. I remember having a hard time making friends (or at least making as deep and meaningful friendships as the ones I had fostered in my hometown and college). I remember struggling as my relationship with my college girlfriend began to deteriorate due to the tyranny of distance. I remember feeling unsure of the path that I was on. This poem was born in those days. It was a reminder to myself that everything was okay, and that everything would be okay. No matter our paths, no matter our choices, no matter our mistakes, we will eventually make it home, and perhaps we never truly left home. Perhaps we are exactly where we need to be. Where we should be.