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