Waiting

Have you ever ached for the unknown?

Not just novelty, or adventure, but something more. Something rich and deeply satisfying that flows through all of you at once?

Indiscernible but there, like a sense memory of an experience you know you never had?

I do.

Sometimes I find myself waiting for it, sure that it is just around the next corner in time and sometimes I yearn for it as though I am looking at old pictures in a scrapbook.

But the pictures are fuzzy and the corner never quite comes.

It isn't as though I believe this will make me happy, but that I need it to complete something. It is as though I have forgotten something very important to me like my mother's name, or the address of home.

Sometimes I wonder if it is the same thing that makes Monarch butterflies fly to Mexico, or geese fly south, or salmon swim upstream, but I can't put my finger on it.