Blades of grass insistent against my skin,
The cool air pushes me ever forward.
Branches of forest trees beckon me in,
But I know now what I’m going toward.
The path before me rises to my feet.
I wonder what adventure comes my way.
Anticipating strangers I may meet
Before the passing of another day.
The rustle of birds in the trees singing,
The creaking of limbs that have long grown cold,
I cannot say what this road is bringing,
But I shall find out before I grow old.
And even if the days become dreary,
And the sky changes into one big cloud,
I know my feet will never grow weary,
And my spirit will never be cowed.
For just beyond the path that I now tread
May be a land of music and laughter.
I will go eagerly along the path ahead
And pave the way for those who come after.
Each new experience will bring a smile,
And I will travel, come whatever cost,
For I know I’ll be learning all the while
And gaining what cannot ever be lost.
Congratulations- you are no longer allowed to start off any blogs with, "I am not a poet."
ReplyDeleteSeriously, though, this really struck a chord with me. It tapped into a strong sense of wanderlust that I have been nurturing and emboldening for the past year or so. When striking out on those unknown paths, it's good to see that I have some company.
That is certainly why I wrote the poem. I have a strong desire to wander - albeit limited opportunity. The life I chose is not conducive to extensive (or spontaneous) travel; although, I do attempt the random trip during summer.
ReplyDeleteAnd I have to say that this wanderlust can translate relatively easily into exploration and adventure that doesn't take you away from home. Sometimes a new experience is as simple as pulling over to the side of the road on your same-every-day drive to work, getting out of the car, and screaming, or picking a flower, or playing Chinese fire drill all by yourself.