Notes About The Poem
It is arguable, no matter how many friends, family et al we have, the ultimate solace will be provided by ourselves.
Nomadic Treasure
Nomadic Treasure
by Odin Roark
A wise man told me
The Essence tuning fork
Is never idle
It is always resonating
As in…
Surviving one’s homeless spirit
One may tune in audacity for a roof
Direct eyes to dine on tomorrow
When eyes no long see
Listen
When ears no longer hear
Think
When no thought comes
Allow
Resonance lingers
For when one’s father no longer lives
Compassion becoming father
When mother passes on
Embracing Order is natural
When no friends come near
Quiet assumes companion
When one’s home is no more
Silence becomes shelter
And so…
I now reside somewhere nameless
Responding not to supernatural influence
My tongue leads its own choir
Allowing no such fortune
Visit my park bench
Need remains but a tactic
Detachment my strategy
My Means have discovered the Within
Where nothing and everything
Becomes my destiny
Anonymity proving divine
Death but treasure found
He also taught me
When your lover has gone
Sleep invites your courting
For tomorrow’s awakening
Awaits slumbering shadows
Primed to detach into the light
Where begins anew
The tuning of the fork
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