Uncharted Imaginations

The travel brochure, colors faded and worn,

dreams captured lightly, in ink lightly scorned.

Mountains loom large in the corners of dreams,

a country untouched, where wanderlust gleams.

With each turn of the page, my heart starts to race,

as the images beckon with wide, open space.

I yearn for the warmth of a sun I can't know,

for skies that are painted in hues that don't show.

I trace my finger over each line, each bend,

a longing for places that never will end.

What stories would unfold if I found my own way,

to the lands of my heart, where I long to stay?