Congruency

In my subliminal mind, I run
on distant shores beyond Eurasian plate,
the parallel winds blow me
in all directions, in all seasons,
much of my wisdom is battered
on its ground of transience.

Salt of earth lingers on to my tongue
with first smell from rain without dissolving,
and the nascent values revolve me around
in similar way, astounding me of it being cardinal
on to which border I lie infirmly
is deep embedded in relics, the one which may find.
Some by worth of worldly inadequacies but
most of my efforts, seeking light through
tunnels in all ends, I meet destiny as written
for me and all.