Until Then

I want to travel the world until my bones are as fragile as the ice in the arctic,

my hands are as twisted as the roads of Italy,

and my voice is coarse as the sands of the Pacific.

I'll place myself with hungry eyes in front of thousands of plates,

taste the flavors of the world,

and the nectar of the soil.

Never find a house, but always have a home, like a falcon shaken from the nest.

Fallen, I'll sit under a weeping tree with hair as bright as the sun,

and as the wind picks up be swept along.

I'll waste away as time steals my breath--

but when my time comes,

I'll be as free to once again cross the oceans I crossed years ago.