A NOMAD’S QUEST.

A NOMAD’S QUEST.

Walking without a path in mind

Drifting across the many clouds.

With nothing specific for the mind to find;

Looking out for ruins and lands.

The night sky shone;

Lit by a lonely moon;

Drawing to the beauty;

Of the stillness of the night.

The sound of the cricket’s chirping;

The silence in the cold breeze.

The mystery within,

Blending with the darkness.

Awoken by ripples of a brook,

Giggling and teasing as it flows.

I see fresh life beginning;

With rise of the sun, and

Flight of a bird, to hunt.

The breeze blows gently

Rustling the pale autumn leaves.

I bow down to the water,

Feeling its chill

With palms beneath.

The stream flows through,

Tranquil and at peace

Making way for all the lives in it.

I see life: in its myriad manifestations

And wonder where we differ?

I walk through the gardens,

 I climb through the hills

I walk through the dunes

I swim through the seas.

I see cultures, I see religions

I see health, I suffer the sickness.

I see the smiles, feel the tears.

Oh! My friend, where do we differ?

Isn’t this groundless?

Isn’t this an ignominy?

I see the cleric preach; I ask:

Are thou so blinded:

That thou can’t see; we are one?

 Like the river flowing through:

Like the moon lighting a path

I know not where I belong:

But, for every patch of grass,

I’ve laid my feet on.

Thus a nomad’s quest