A selection from Vagabonds and Sundries


I sat for a time
by the burning bush.
A naked child
among the harsh winds
yet, while the flames were high,
they gave no warmth.

I sat for a time
at the foot of the mountain
waiting for the prophet to descend,
in need of understanding
only to find, I wanted to live the truth
not receive it secondhand.

I sat for a time
outside of the tomb
waiting for love to be resurrected
that I might be healed.
Only to learn, what has passed
never returns exactly as it was.

I sat for a time
among monks draped in maroon and saffron robes
that I might understand my suffering
and come to terms with the nature of our existence.
Only to admit that I could not concede
life is meant to be pain.

All this I did that I might learn.
Yet am left knowing less now
than I did when I set out.

Coming to see,
that we need not seek.
We need only find those things
that help us remember.


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