Borders

The earth is populated across her weary face
For men have always wandered with hope from place to place,
Their wives and even children are all they often brought--
They look for open spaces where new life can be wrought.

From Africa mankind has spread, equator to the poles,
No matter where they've settled down they've met their mighty goals--
From fishermen to farmers and architects to saints
We never have ceased moving--our future's what each paints.

We paint the landscape future with ever-winding roads
On which we're always traveling with all our dreams and loads--
But often there's resistance when leaving or when there,
But that has never kept us from going anywhere.

The soul of man must wander--that is the natural law,
And those who would oppose it live with a tragic flaw--
They hate the best that's in mankind, and people who would hate
Want to destroy all beauty and dissolve our human fate.