To the Not Impossible Him

How shall I know, unless I go
To Cairo and Cathay,
Whether or not this blessed spot
Is blest in every way?

Now it may be, the flower for me
Is this beneath my nose;
How shall I tell, unless I smell
The Carthaginian rose?

The fabric of my faithful love
No power shall dim or ravel
Whilst I stay here, –but oh, my dear
If I should ever travel!

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Collected Lyrics

*I’m sensing a personal theme here.  Staying, going, signing contracts, settling down, seeing, experiencing, itching, scracthing.  Are free spirits always this way?