Rootless

Oh I’m homeless, homeless in a home.
Four rooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a hall

Yet I sleep, not alone but in dreams
a room for me and my insanity.

I don’t have a place to put my books
I don’t have a wall to paint all stories

I don’t have a floor to lie down naked
I don’t have a mirror to look into my eyes

I don’t have a pant with pockets—
to keep my pens and papers

So I don’t owe to stay back—
for anyone. I’m rootless on the road.

Oh I’m rootless, rootless on the roads.
A bag full of wilderness and brain full of no plans!

No directions, no maps—
neither sun nor wind can show me the path

I walk, I walk, I walk

If you find me, then find me interesting
Rent me in to a space to sleep

Dreaming all those wonder swings—
a bed of jellies that float beneath

A blanket woven of butterflies—
can you do it for me?

I’m not tired, I’ll take you for a walk
for I’ve been to places you have not.

Buy me a coffee, I cannot offer—
for I’m broke. But I can offer songs and kisses.

Will you go with me?

-Uma Devu-