THE WANDERER’S SONG


I've   said   goodbyes   often
When   I   could   still   hear,
Faint   echoes   of   their   greetings
Murmur   softly   in   my   ear.

It's   not   I   ever  wanted
The   seasons   should   not   stay,
Some   Springs   I'd   often   wished  
Would   just   last   another   day.

It's   not   I   ever   wanted
The   crown   of   dubious   fame
Just   my   soul   upon   my   shoulder
No   doorstep   to   my   name.

Oft   at   weary   crossings
I'd   wonder   if   at   last,
My   travels   were   now   over
I   could   leave   behind   the   past.

Was   this   the   place   of   comfort
With   stone   and   cement   bound?
Neat   flowers   and   trim   hedges
In   silence   laid   around.

With   none   to   sit   beside   me
The   hearth   would   chill   my   feet
Just   books   to   tell   me   tales
In   silent   closed   retreat.

Then,   one   day,   so   casual
Life   glanced   again   my   way,
The   doors   I'd   closed   –   I   opened,
I   could   no   longer   stay.

I   left   that   prison's   doorstep,
Secure   stone   and   cement   hole,
For   paths   I   knew   not   led   where
Captive   to   my   restless   soul.

My   thoughts   were   ever   constant
My   spirit   too   was   true,
It   left   its   futile   searching
And   fled   to   skies   of   blue.

Amidst   the   clouds   I   sauntered
Along   trails   of   stars   and   dreams
Skipped   pebbles   'cross   the   faces
Of   merry   bubbling   streams.

The   Seasons   they   would   change
And   in   passing   leave   behind
No   furrows   on   my   brow
No   shadows   on   my   mind.

Songs   that   need   no   music
And   words   not   needing   voice
The   sense   of   unknown   feelings
In   these   pleasures   I   rejoice.

I   still   say   my   goodbyes
When   hullos   linger   on
Just   my   soul   'pon   my   shoulder
Just   a   traveller-come   and   gone.