Here is a new poem we are encouraging too…I am going…interpret it, play with the idea, send in Where I am Going poems for this website!
I am Going
I am going to a secret garden that is only meant for me and my hopes and dreams, whose flower’s petals are so shiny that they are like mirrors and I can reflect upon myself,
I am going on life’s topsy-turvy roller coaster, with ups and downs and lefts and rights,
And places and possibilities that haven’t been discovered yet.
I am going down a winding path that leads to who knows where, without a start or an end
I am going on a voyage across turbulent waters and the unpredictable obstacles life hurtles at me
I am going to nowhere but somewhere, here but there
I am going to a place where I have room to grow my wings and emerge as who I am truly meant
to emerge as
I am going to a place where my voice is heard and where my imagination can fly freely
I am going wherever my thoughts want to wander even if I end up lost in my own little world with no door back to reality
I am going to an unknown destination, but wherever I am going, I am writing my own story with my own footprints in nobody else’s shoes, but mine
We have not gotten many, Where I Am Going poems…here is a new one!
Where I’m going
By Kimberly Vaartstra
I am going where I can breathe my own air,
just to myself.
I am going where I have more room,
to feel my independency.
I am going to my job,
to do my best at,
I am going where I can make a new family,
possibly of cats.
I am going where i can continue to educate myself,
whether it’s in university or a job
I am going to the store to shop for my own food,
a few cans of cat food too.
I am going where I can find my own home,
and where I can find my own self.
Where I Am Going
Kaye Thompson Fields
I am going inwards, in search of my authentic self,
tired of running the roads, heavy loads, punctuality,
accountability to others, weary of life as connect
the dots activity, a continuous challenge to hatch
new plots, schemes, chase elusive futile dreams.
Inside me is where I choose
to be, so much rich ore to be mined
from my mother lode, so many poems
to savor, countless words to write
spiced with my personal flavor. No
more time to waste outside my own space.
Acquired all I need
with reckless, heedless speed,
now perched in my own nest, I
will curate the best, donate what fails
to resonate or delight. To read at
will, to contemplate, to dream both
day and night, no more flight from hindsight.
I have arrived at last at my destination.
All hail, hours spent in quiet contemplation.