A Traveller's Tale (Part III)The sun began its concert path
As night gave way to day –
Once raging seas stood canvas still
And low the boy still lay.
Oblivious to the silent calm
That now engulfed the scene;
Oblivious to the emptiness -
The void where dreams had been.
Oblivious to the towering heights
Lowering o’er the page
Only aware of the figure –
The softly murmuring sage.
Who gently spoke with muffled words
In whispered, cadences,
Which fell like gentle drops of dew
To stir the boy’s senses.
“The boat you chartered through your thoughts
Was by my ancient magic driv’n
The magic that was formed the day
Your dreams with dust were riv’n.
You dreamed to leave your dreary home,
To sail to treasured lands;
Your dreams were vivid, full of life –
You held the World in your hands.
And as you sailed across the seas
By dreams you found your way
Forever moving on and on
Leaving gems where they lay.
Never satisfied, you wandered
Oceans, isles and skies;
Never truly understanding
The world that skimmed your eyes.
But all the while your store of dreams
Was being diminished
And every treasure left-behind
Was a vision finished.
Until at last the stock ran dry –
The boat had spent its hour;
Now passing into stormy seas
While tropic lands turned sour.
Here at their ebb your thoughts returned,
Rekindling flames of home,
Which placed instead of spice-filled lands
Grey cliffs upon their throne.”
The old man stood and with raised arms
Stretched out and into space
While sparks glanced from his darting eyes
And lighted up his face.
A blinding flash of molten light
Danced from his wooden cane
The day, still pale with weakened glow
Grew bright then pale again.
Poetry by Steve Hagget
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Written on 2006-10-16 at 15:40
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