I walked the road where no maps lay,
A path the stars had cast in gray.
The trees stood hushed in twilight’s song,
As if the dusk had held them long.
The wind, a whisper in retreat,
Brushed cold against my wandering feet.
I’d left the towns and clocks behind,
In search of something I could find
Beyond the noise, beyond the name,
Where silence walked and no one came.
A yearning deep, I couldn’t frame
Just motion, sky, and inner flame.

By rivers curved in the silver run,
I met the shadows, met the sun.
The mountains bowed with ancient grace,
Their wisdom is written on their face.
I asked the stone, “What truth do you keep?”
It murmured back, “The truth runs deep.”
In forests thick with moss and mind,
I felt the breath of something kind.
The earth was not just root and clay
It dreamed beneath, in its way.
I touched a tree and felt it see
The very soul that haunted me.

In desert lands of burning white,
I walked by stars instead of light.
The sand held stories none could claim,
Each grain a spark, a drifting name.
I asked the wind, “What song is sung?”
It sighed, “The one you left unsung.”
I knelt before the dust and dune,
And saw my shadow meet the moon.
A hundred lives I might have led
All shimmered there and softly fled.
But one remained, its edges true
The path that curved back into you.

A city rose in dreams one night,
Its towers are built of woven light.
No gates, no walls, no guards or stone
Just hearts that knew they weren’t alone.
The people smiled with eyes like seas,
They spoke in thoughts, in silent peace.
They asked for no name, they asked for no past,
Just welcomed me, a soul at last.
And in their songs, I felt the thread.
Of every word I’d never said.
A mirror placed before my face
I saw myself, and not the chase.

Now years have passed, or maybe none
Time’s ribbon frays when threads are spun.
Still, I return to wander’s way,
Each morning is born from yesterday.
But now I walk with eyes that see
The world is less alone with me.
The stars above, the soil below,
The wind that teaches me to go
They do not end, they don’t begin,
They’re just the space I carry in.
And when I stop, I feel it right
The wanderer has found their light.

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