Traveller
Traveller
I traverse without a clock,
Hoping the sun lingers
A little while,
As her rays accompany
My shadow and me.
The dust of the desert anchors my soles.
I hear the cutting chorus of the owls,
Piercing the silence of the air.
I do not want the wet hedges of trees;
They offer no comfort
To the bones of a man
Who never met rapture.
The cloud blushes in cheap costume
And scares the sun into bed,
Like Charlie's grandma.
Allowing the moon to watch midnight horrors,
From Neanderthal actors upon the stage of my imagination,
While I burn within my own furnace.
May you never lose your way,
Led astray by hundreds of tracks on the map
That seem navigable without a compass.
For humanity's race is a journey,
But not every terrain leads to the same destination.
I am just a traveller;
I am not a wanderer.
~ Uche Chidozie Okorie
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