She rushed through the crowd as the sun-kissed her skin,
Looked around in a craze to find her kind in her kin.
Her eyes wild in search,
The strength in her feet filled with passion.
She searched and searched for anyone who might be,
But had no luck at all.
Desperate and panicked she decided to flee,
Away from the known, her kin, her clan.
Away from the scrutiny to an unknown land.
She knew it would be tough,
Of course she was scared,
But remembered what she was taught, “Always be prepared”.
So she fled and she ran,
Ran till she saw other souls,
Not her kind but similar wandering wholes.
No fear of being different, their eyes held.
Truth and acceptance, the two things they knew well,
The truth of kind and kin,
And the acceptance that everything eventually fell.
Each a different kind, from a different kin,
Who chose to flee like her as they too felt misplaced from within.
They welcomed her, comforted her and told her to have no fear.
“We might not be your kind,
We might not be your kin,
But we’re all wanderers like you”, they said.
She thanked them and thanked them, shedding a few tears of joy.
Sighing of relief and no more shy.
She ran around now and danced with glee,
For the wanderer inside her was finally free.
No more of kin she was,
She found none of her kind,
She was different, unique and finally fine.
She knew her roots, no doubt they might have been the same,
Only she grew out to be different,
A branch shaped a little different, you could say,
A branch which saw life in a new way.
Away from home, surprisingly, she finally felt at peace.
She still missed it but now life was more at ease.
Her own way she could live.
Her own answers she could find.
She could let loose from the chains of what was defined.
Wandering not lost she could finally see,
The array of possibilities of what she could be.