Pangea illustrates your gypsy feet while the earth’s rotation gyroscopes your soul.
Does it bother you that your eyes are the color of ancient cultures or that animals sense your presence long before you awaken?
How can you sleep with all the tribal whispers sighing in your dreams?
The urge to migrate is as strong a presence in your being as the pull of gravity.
You cannot stay any more than the moon can keep its shape constant.
And why must you go?
Do you hear the chant of the lunar tide even as we say goodbye?
Dance along if you must, but remember the rhythm of your movement is drummed by the heartbeats of your home, your lodestone.
Watch the moon at midnight to see that those of us left behind have painted your saga in a myth.
One day you will sprout roots but for now soar on the breath of the wind and journey on the magic of your passion.
You are one of the fluid beings in life, more motion than form.
Go then, you who seek the past forever in the future.
Our thoughts will shadow you and act as your talisman.
We cannot keep you here so we celebrate as we let you go.