the question is, where do you go from here?
are you as confident as the river
that is sure of the sea?
a tree whose only fate is upward
a cloud whose only joy is to drift and make rain?
we are neither the trees or the rivers
or the clouds
we are beyond all these metaphors
and must answer for ourselves: where are we going?

ah, i know where i am going
do not blame me if
at the end of our destinations
we shall find nothing
do not blame me if you are lost
neither shall i blame myself for this 'lostness'

it is my essence
directions actually do not matter
look at me, i am here, i am writing and i am not going anywhere
ah, i lose myself
because i want to finally find it.

RIC S. BASTASA

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/losing-oneself-at-the-end/