Traversing the wild...

My mind has wandered away.

It interrupted me in the middle of something I was doing and when I told it to hold on it huffed and walked out of my cubicle. I'm not quite sure where it is at the moment. It travels rather fast for such a small thing, it's hard to catch once it leaves.

I think it's somewhere with my lovers, enjoying the fruits and affections of the labors of love that it has put in in recent times. Cuddling close under thick, warm blankets and cool silken sheets near the brightness of a sunny window; teasing lightheartedly about the way that the hair falls across their faces or their eyes sparkle with mischief when certain subjects are mentioned. They could be having breakfast in bed, dinner under the stars, drinks on the seaside and midnight strolls on the beach.

Perhaps it's on vacation, traveling the world, visiting all those places that it has never before seen: Monaco in the spring, Brazil at Mardi Gras, California in the summer, New England in the fall. Sitting by the Seine with a glass of semi-sweet Alsatian and a plate of brie; pub hopping in London at dusk; eating scones with butter and honey near the Great Pyramids at sunrise. Tan and trim from all the whirlwind action, or lazing in the breeze without a care for it's waistline as the sweet European waifs cater to it's every need.

Then again, maybe it's in the mountains walking up green grassy hills among the clouds, swimming in the cool, clear lakes and relaxing under a tree with a thick newsprint pad and some charcoal pencils or a paperback book.

Or it might have headed out west to visit places that spark it to imagine that maybe life would be different if we were there, living the life I put behind me years ago. It does love to reminisce so about the good old days of youth and the way we travelled the country in search of ourself.

Maybe it's with my daughter, learning to ride without training wheels, keeping that kite in the air despite the gusts, lying on a grassy hill counting the clouds, or eating ice cream cones on the waterfront as the sailboats glide across the harbor.

Alternatively, it might just be thinking about you and the way you make it feel. Warm and cared for; challenged by your inquisitive nature; frustrated by your flighty and evasive personality; confused by your changing stories; delighted by your attentions and invitations, physical and intellectual.

Well, I guess it will let me know where to meet it later. If you see it, have it send a postcard to remember it by.