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I am beginning to resent the nomadicy of my pollen-like nature
Particles settled upon haphazard surfaces like careless lines coloured by a clumsy child
I am becoming a collage of pieces of rainbow spilled from the careful outlines laid out for me
My rainbow is beautiful
In a wild and reckless way
I breathe spontaneity like a drug I have become dependant on
My veins itching for night time train rides and long bus trips and foreign cities
Sparsely packed bags and surviving upon essentials
But I have begun to crave a home
I have begun to crave pancake batter spilled across kitchen counters and awakening to murmured voices in the next room
Doors left unlocked and ajar in the summertime
Mornings bathed in yellow light
I have begun to need corner stores and convenience
Washing machines and ovens
I have begun to miss quilts spread across couches
And lying on my bed with my best friend at one a.m.
I know now that I cannot exist without rainy drives in my old neighbourhood
Ice cream sundaes and movie nights
Falling asleep to familiar noises
Pounding pavement my feet have traced millions of times in a thousand different shoes
Perhaps my home will be a temporary relief
A surge of energy before I am released into wilderness once again
Perhaps in one year I will find myself on a night bus to Amsterdam again
But for now I am content with my little home
With my little quirks and comforts
With waking up to familiar faces and a familiar language
With the idea of home
Throbbing so close now on the horizon
I am content with counting down to an arrival
Instead of a departure