Wanderer WanderWanderWand

I’m not coming home tonight, my soul is restless and the moon is bright

Sometimes people vanish without saying a word and go hunt for a better life. They might not even tell their friends and family because they don’t want anyone to stop them. That can be hard these days but it was easier in the past when you could strike out into the West or take a train far away or hop a freighter to another country. I guess everybody is tempted from time to time but it is hard to leave everything behind unless you feel squeezed out. Plus nowadays you need all kinds of IDs and numbers to get a job and survive. In the old days you could wander like a will-o’-the-wisp and pick up work here and there and keep searching for that promised land. Wanderers would show up in the country or in small towns or big cities and keep moving on until they found the right place to settle or might never settle down at all. They might find themselves sleeping under the stars or in a boardinghouse or in a fine mansion. In the end though I bet they stopped in the place that had the best food because it is hard to resist a good meal even if your soul is restless. If I had a hotel I would call it the Wandering Inn and hope that wanderers would come stay so I could hear all their stories. I would give them free drinks at the hotel bar and their stories would carry me far away to places known and unknown. That’s as close as I would get to being a wanderer though because while my imagination might run wild I still like to stay close to home.