I watch as countless birds migrate from north to south
Following one after another, no words spoken by mouth
Street colours are make-believe in this place
As I walk past no one notices me or looks at my face
Off to sandy beaches and calming blue sea
My soul is migrating from deep inside me
I won’t travel by sea, on foot or a long distant highway
Just close my eyes, breathe and believe I can fly away
I have no route to follow or a deadline to meet
I visualise the countryside, a city or even a street
I smell new smells, hear sounds and step back in time
I imagine harvests on land or on sea, but I drift past, committing no crime
I feel invisible as though no one can see me
I can turn into something else, physics, metamorphic you see
I could be the person standing in front of the queue
Or I could be a beach towel, fluffy and blue
I could be the lost, hungry cat or wandering old man
I could even be the VIP who walks past the loyal fan
I love feeling like a fly on the wall, it could be anywhere
Like the life of a drifter, moving on, no time to stop and stare
Sometimes I’m in history, a battle, a war or a date
From Royal splendour and banquets to an Oliver orphan at the gate
Where will I drift to next time, I can never be sure
I could be green with envy, whether I’m rich or poor
Escaping life for a while may sound nice to some or even odd
But migrating is like hatching, not from egg or even by God
Spread your eagle like wings and set your mind free
Looking around and learning to be me
For if I was a spider, a dog or a stray
I think I’ll stay invisible, no harm will meet me that way.
Llewellyn-McKenzie Communications (c) 2019
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