Everything we Need

Everything we need is in there.
It’s all been zipped, and folded,
Rolled into sausages,
Slid into pockets of space.
Squashed and pressed and
Sandwiched together.
Everything we need.

All our papers are in there.
Our passports and medical cards,
Stamped and signed so that
We can cross borders without
Being stopped, or questioned,
Or pulled into side rooms
Where imaginary needles await us.

All our books are in there.
Well, as many as we can carry,
Before the days of Kindle and E-books.
Lonely Planet is our Bible
And, along with the Bible, there’s
Michelin maps, and journals, dictionaries
And a novel to swap at our first stop.

All the rest is in there.
T-shirts and shirts, a swimsuit,
A towel. And the rest of the space
Is taken up with dreams and
Hopes. A sense of being called into a 
Future as large as the continent 
To which we’re headed.

As our remember our laden backpacks
I still feel the lightness that I felt,
To have shed so much - boxes and boxes
Of stuff - for these two bundles.
And to be on the road, just the two of us,
With the future bright and wide before us.
Everything we need.