For some, time passes swiftly. It moves like a fast-paced river, never ceasing, never ending.
But for me time stands still. It barely moves. It is like a hard tree, digging in roots, staying in one spot while things change around it.
For they are the Travellers and I am a Wandering One. They are the River and I am a Tree.
But I am growing restless.
I do not know why I feel what I do, but I know that I must take action. For the world calls to me. I can not remain.
And so I go.
What I will find I will find. What I see I will see. And whatever happens to me, let it be said that I followed the call of the wild and set my spirit free.
I am no more a Wandering One.
I am a Traveller.
But for me time stands still. It barely moves. It is like a hard tree, digging in roots, staying in one spot while things change around it.
For they are the Travellers and I am a Wandering One. They are the River and I am a Tree.
But I am growing restless.
I do not know why I feel what I do, but I know that I must take action. For the world calls to me. I can not remain.
And so I go.
What I will find I will find. What I see I will see. And whatever happens to me, let it be said that I followed the call of the wild and set my spirit free.
I am no more a Wandering One.
I am a Traveller.
~~Hannah Taylor~~
1/15/12
No comments:
Post a Comment