Day 362: Let me Fly

Chances are if you have read me early onward by now you know that I like to write when I travel, especially about the travel. Not because I think it is liberating as always but because I think that there is something very special about a traveling heart and soul. Something that finds pause among a crowd of people, one who is listening to stories . These people gazers and the illusioned alike, these concerned ones and the ones aloof from the world, come together and it is in the companionship of a diary that I make these journeys as I write back to you.

Let me Fly
Let me be close to you and yet let me fly
Let me borrow these wings even if I know not why
Dream as though thoughts they form without a pause
Till I found what I am looking for , maybe just the right cause

Let me sail into the wind, the sea, or whatever way I may go
I will draw lines on deserts and beaches the only way I know
While these thoughts in my head like travelers diary today
Will choose to get filled almost written in its own way

I am looking for stories that are quiet for now
They are packed in my mind and in my suitcases somehow
I carry them with me from one end to the next
The traveler writes and his world never rests

Yet those who will come to me, I will ask them "let me fly"
Let me come back just after more time has passed, if only a while
I have roadmaps I don't look at and yet I will not get lost
I am traveler at heart, a storyteller at best, looking for a cause

Day 361: Bitter Sweet

I never had quite a dilemma writing a poem and then struggling for just the right words to include. It is one of those moments when an obvious contrast is not so obvious to your mind. I wonder if I am taking these long pauses for a reason, have I planned them in my head or am I slowly changing thoughts as they form in time as I write. Whatever the reason maybe, I know this one was a tough one where I had to decide the favorable or unfavorable taste that I want to leave with or maybe combine them into something simply bitter-sweet for you.

Bitter Sweet
Come take a walk with me into the unknown
Come dream of things we are yet to make our own
Feel these drops of flavor that stay with you
Telling a story if you choose to find or maybe write one too

What is bitter and what is sweet?
Are they the same to you and me?
Or are they transformed desired freshly plated
They are thoughts that are quiet, they are the unstated

Perhaps candy coated shells that hide
They are prelude to an aftertaste that survives
Yet reminders of things that for a brief moment stay
From sunrise to the end of hours this day

In time I will find, that from which I will learn
Where you could taste writings & thoughts you could discern
While the bitter and sweet will blend into just one
And I will leave you with words, perhaps recipes, only half done 

Day 360: Wandering Wanderers

Not all wanderers wander and it is the nature of travel. It is the nature of people to feel the need to roam and be lost and yet fall in love with nostalgia of just the same. I am amused by the need to travel, the notion of the wandering wanderers and while I look for no subtle hints of where to go next, I am fascinated by all. I am in the lost farewell at the airport you say, I am in the bus tickets you keep folded in your shirt pocket sometimes, I am maybe the directions you ask a stranger when lost and maybe maps  that you never use. In the wilderness of the world I pay an ode to you the wanderers who live in journeys every single day. While the whole worlds finds a place to be , you refuse to stay.

Wandering Wanderers
Why would I worry about tickets I am yet to buy?
Choose destinations before knowing if I could fly
I would wander without knowing I am a wanderer at heart
Just looking for places to go and waiting to start

For those who are lost among the familiar places
Who are forgotten and remembered in the everyday faces
Traveling home or far away from one
We have started to fade, but we have only begun

Am I a wandering wander at heart, are you one too?
If I follow no maps and directions, will you follow through?
For now I have no good answers; just questions on my mind
Why being lost is hard and yet is the easiest thing to find

In words that travel far and some that echo back
I am keeping notes of all the things of which I lost track
While we may all come and go, we will leave a trace
While the wanderers who wander, try to find their own place