To look at a map, they say

Is to see the world.

But I, for one, look on in dismay

And think or more often dream of the day

When I'll toss away that map unfurled.



When I will stride across seas

In search of God's treasure,

The salty-sweet ocean breeze

Or the tropics of Belize

For as long as I pleasure.



I have been but few places,

But crave the beauty, to explore it all.

To see the people's faces,

Feel their embraces

And hear their eager call.



In dreams I have flown

Past the ruins of Greece,

Through passes unknown

And mountains of stone,

Only to grasp a minute's peace.



Because in that minute

I see the world as it is meant to be seen.

Not just to visit,

But to live it.

Not here or there, but everywhere between.