Icey fingers touch me on the shoulder.
As I turn, winter winds greet me.

Frozen flakes of snow are dancing on the breeze.
As a lone goose, makes his way south.

It was then, that I realized.
I too, was a lot like that forsaken goose,
Tired and alone.

Always wandering,
In search of something or someone,
That I may never find.

Just an ache, an emptiness, that always seems to call.
No matter how weary I get.

Driven by nature, to go from one place to another.
Never knowing what lies ahead.

Maybe someday, death or the answer, will be upon us.
But until then, the search will go on.