Friday, August 7, 2009

An old poem rediscovered.

I was looking through old blog posts that I hadn't posted and found this. It is better than I remembered.

It is my way the path to seek,
the older roads and trails to meet.
And never here to stop and rest,
But always seek a different quest.

When will I end this weary jest,
This cursed, endless restlessness?
I wish now to stop, to call it quits,
To find that home, a place that fits.

But ever on I wander anew,
and lands I love soon pass from view.
For I am but a pilgirm, a passer through,

1 comment:

stormi esperanza said...

it IS very good. thanks for sharing. it rings true with my wanderlust as well.