The Wanderer I am in my forest. A place that only I can see. A wondrous world of green and light- Where nothing and no one can bother me. A place where I am free from pain: where I can begin to live at last Where I can know and learn and grow beyond the horrors of my past. It grows more clear as time passes, I begin to see with clarity and as I see and search and find I grow beyond past cruelty. I hear a sound beyond my ken: Soft as a whisper yet not a word, light as angel's breath and yet the steel edged keening of two swords. The more I'm in my greenwood, the more that I can see and hear: a voice that seems beyond the void and yet, I hear it, crystal clear. The tone is deep yet isn't loud, an accent strange yet understood. The voice is calming, peaceful, strange as it commands to explore my wood. I wander and explore at length finding paths before unknown to me wondering, as I yet must wander; what has all of this to do with me? I hear the sounds of water tumbling: crystal green yet white with foam, sparkling, cleansing; I am drawn within it... Standing there I know I'm home. The morning next benear the falls, I found a cloak of wondrous green that seemed to shimmer in the light I was beyond wondering what it might mean. It became a daily process to cast aside the cloak I wore and stand beneath the crystal streams and learn that I am so much more than ever I thought that I could be, standing naked in the light letting the waters caress my soul and letting grief fade in the night. I also found a cabin in a glade of greenish hue... Surrounded by flowers all in bud as if yet waiting a day or two. It had a most unusual door covered in carvings of animals rare unicorns and pegasi guarded the words written there. The longer that I examined the door. the clearer the carven words became. It spoke of a wanderer to come once he'd escaped a mantle of blame. I could not get the door to open, yet it wasn't locked that I could see and then I saw the words come clear: the Ones it would open for did not include me. While walking in the glade one night, I heard the voice begin to speak It Named me Seeker yet knew I not of what or whom I was to seek. Twas then that I began to sense that I was not alone that others traveled in my glade that others wandered in my home. At first I cried, This place is mine! I wanted no intruders here but then I heard the voice again.... without words he made his meaning clear. When worlds collide and eons swirl when entities become as one when meaning must be redefined then out of darkness comes the sun. When millennium stretches out its hand, when strangers meet as long lost friends, when the time becomes its birth- your solitude in here must end. I was told that I was more than Seeker that I was teacher and yet would be taught and tangled up with all of this was the wanderer I sought. My journey is not over. Why is he here in my green place? This is my sanctuary, my forest. I did not invite him here...I pace and search for answers, eventually they come that there are many wanderers each in his own time and space and each is on a journey which he may or may not be willing to face. He wanders thoughtfully my forest, lost beyond and through the trees. Ever beyond the call of my voice ever beyond the sound of me. An entity invades my light, yet I am told he is the one the searcher, the wanderer at long last, he has come. But for what purpose I pose this question, if naught for me then why wanders he here? He needs you comes the answer; you will help his focus clear. I follow in the shadows my cloak masking my thoughts from his Hooded yet I follow him. Deeper, deeper in the trees Emotions flood from within this wanderer The pain cuts deep within my soul yet my purpose is to accept his pain and in doing so....let him be whole. He has to let go of what's holding him back, I am told I will hold what he has to give, that it's necessary he shed his grief for he has to have room to grow; to live. For right now he's merely searching which path; for what, he does not know. And I am picked to guide, to help him yet Know I not where he must go. I sense his yearning, sense his pain I see him stumble, nearly fall, I feel his shiver, feel his cold while bright sun streams, warming all. I see that he cannot feel its warmth I sense he wanders befogg-ed, blind... I cannot touch him, nay nor speak to him at all except with my mind. I watch him from behind the oak, see him circle, clearly lost watch as he tires, numb with cold and know so clearly what the cost would be should I be seen, and yet I yearned to let him see which path to take, which path to trod yet this too ...was denied to me. I tried to send him thoughts of hope I tried to send him thoughts of knowing I tried to send him warmth and comfort I tried to shield him from the blowing snow I knew that he was feeling, cold and fog and pain , despair... I tried to ease his mind by taking all the emptiness I found there. Then to him it was the morning... now one path led to his day and though I knew he'd find his cabin I followed behind and led the way. One last time I called his name yet, he knew not, that it was he For he was not yet the Finder that he would one day come to be. |