Thoughts of a Wanderer

Beneath the rays of the high, noonday star,
As by the fated timelines it was willed,
A lonely Wanderer appeared from far –
A child of Emptiness and Fire, fulfilled.

The springtime overfilled his heart and breast,
The distance rang beyond the cloudy veil,
And Night splashed softly at his feet, possessed
As an eternally long, endless trail.

The fog would drift, the snow would fall and melt,
Becoming water, silent in its turn,
And grief was not a hardship to be felt,
And Man was happy, having naught to spurn.

But suddenly, a distant call, a sound
That with a sweet, sharp pain will make reply,
The soul will see, and—it will be homebound,
To lands of undreamed dreams that never die.

And he will carry, as he goes to roam,
This very pain, this light, this dual theme,
And he'll become a river, quiet, foam,
That holds the trembling moonlight in its stream.

01.09.2007