pilgrim's quest

i must confess
to suffer still
dwelling here in
this cluttered hut
just as if i'm
passing through
on some endless
search for that place
i might know peace

if home is where
the heart is
then this seeker
must move on
tis time again
to pack yon
roadworn bag
and continue on
this solitary quest

there's nothing like
the open road to
test one's living faith
there has never
been a time
the gypsy gods
weren't there
to offer comfort
care and guidance
while i trudged along
the pilgrim's trail

it was not like
here and now
trapped behind these
cold bare walls
within this sterile
man-made box
where the gods
seem sometimes
somewhere near
but surely never here

i am like the
life long sailor
who's been beached
upon dry land
longing for those
carefree days at sea

the seaman needs
no god to bow to
for tis wind and tide
the sun and stars
that in the end decide
the mariner's fate