Wanderer
A poem on living lost
They say that not all who wander are lost I am I get lost on purpose It makes me think about me feet The distance they’ve covered If they hurt How my calluses thicken unevenly My toes never point me in the right direction But I never look down I wander to wonder To look for my reflection in strangers’ faces To see if I exist the way I think I do The unknown teaches me what I know What I don’t And what I have all wrong Maps don’t agree with me Maybe I don’t agree with them I detest being told where things begin and end Unnatural and arbitrary divisions Chafe in my mind and soul I prefer mapping by memory Trusting my own wayfinding Feeling the steps taken Charting in meals shared Comforts given and received Stories spoken by hearts wide open Being lost has never led me astray
- Lily Luz, Mother of Stories



Just lovely. Getting lost is just another way of being found.