The Wanderer

Restless

Frantic

Vagabond,

They called him.
Settle down,

Find love,

They told him.
But he was in love,

He said.

He was in love with his freedom.

He was in love,

Not only with the castles of Europe,

Or the forests of Brazil,

The beaches of the Bahamas,

The temples of India,

But all of it as one.
Aren’t you afraid?

They would ask him.

I have nothing to fear, he would say.

For I do not see in colour,

I live not in hate.
Don’t you get lonely?

They would ask him.

I have seven billion friends, he would say.
He would marvel

At the intangible borders,

The divides his people had made

Chains keeping each other

From feeling

The same love he felt

For the state of living,

Breathing,

Seeing not in colour.

A vagabond,

A wanderer

Who never wandered

For the world

Was his home.

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “The Wanderer

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s