Sunday 18 January 2009

The Sojourner



I collect stories from the clouds
and knowing smiles from rainbows;
the roads give me their steady grammar
and trees provide the punctuation.

At times my always wandering mind
is shaken by the roll of thunder,
inspired by the force of lightning
or just pushed further on by a storm.

Mountains give me their solidity
and forests their shaded melancholy,
while brooks whisper their tales
and lakes add becalming murmurs.

On good days the Sun's warming rays
make me travel with greater joy,
and at night the Moon tells me
the most intimate secrets she knows.

When I get home to my little cottage,
I light the fire and a pipe, sit down
with a fresh pot of tea and turn all
I have seen and heard into words.

But whatever I create here on paper
is only a pale shadow of the real world
which is out there, waiting for me
to return for another journey.

By Francis de Roëlman