If I am fortunate enough
to be allowed
to explore you,
you have my word

that I will not make
the classic explorer’s mistake
of claiming you.

No flag, no shouted obeisance
to God and country
as I move forward
mapping the terrain.

Love is no
manifest destiny —

there’s no mandate
set before hand
to be enforced.

We have learned
the hard way — seen
too many vanish bitterly
into exploitation
and other follies.

No, if I am fortunate enough
to be allowed to
to explore you, to make
a home here — wonder of wonders,
to be prayed for fervently — I swear

I will always be your guest,
no imposition
of force or law will follow in my wake.

The truth is, I never liked
where I come from.  I’ll send
no word back
of what riches there are to be taken.

I’ll stay here, I’ll dwell
solely on your terms.  Become
one with you. Learn the customs,
Go native, as they say back home,

usually with a sneer in the tone —
I’ll be a better man for forgetting them,
because what did I ever learn back there
except a code of seizure and theft?

If I am fortunate enough
to be allowed to explore you,
to have those endless, breathless moments
of discovery, you have my word
that I’ll tear up the map
the minute I find a place
to settle
and just be here…
because you don’t need a map
of home, and Lord,

I want this to be home.