I’ve never been patriotic and I’ve never had a home
Things are only things to me, I can take them or leave them alone.
I grow restless when I’m rooted and I stretch my hands to fly
I’m not a tree nor flower, I’m the child of the sky
I’ve got a bag slung o’er my shoulder and another in my hand
I’ll bluster on the evening wind until I reach some untrod land
—Child Of The Sky, by me, K.B. Schiller.