There Are No Foreign Lands
Journey into unknown...
Gone Walkabout
There are no foreign lands
it is the traveler
only who is foreign
It is him
who is responsible
for the road
he is seeking
Open and curious
wanderer
set off
in search
of elsewhere
that home
of the other
People fear him
they don’t understand
why to leave
the certainty of life
among one’s own people?
He smiles and shrug
his shoulders
what is there to explain?
On the crossroad
he decides to wait
for those others
who have gone against
the grain
of their settled lives
Never stops seeking
ways
to reach those
on other side
Let me tell you
about my journey:
Journey through cycles
of dying and rising
I think I have suffered enough
I love the feeling
of mellowing out
reclaiming back
the bits of myself
I might have disowned
or shed earlier in life
or not found a place for
I am finding a home
for them now
including a writer in me,
smile…
Journey through mountains
and valleys
ascent and descent
new faiths and new hope
emerge on the way up
saving your face
when you fall down
and time comes
to make peace
with yourself
with the nature
of existence
all around…
Journey through joy
and sadness
I had reached depths
of despair
I couldn’t see
no rhyme
or reason to go on
I felt dislocated
and lost
miserable
desperately
longing
for something
I couldn’t define
or name
and then I met you,
smile…
Thank you for waiting
on the crossroad
my fellow traveller…