Tag Archives: wanderlust

A traveler’s muse

In city, my heart was spread so thin that I wasn’t feeling much of anything.
But there on the cliffs, I realized I was near the end.
My heart swelled and then hurt.

A traveler.
Another city.
A fresh chapter begins.
A new community ebbs and flows around.

It’s people.
Their dreams. And hopes.
The strains of Mozart’s music swim in the air,
Gliding through countryside’s many cafes,
Glistening shores where children play,
Cobbled streets, merging with the silhouette of the 0ld fort.

Time rolls.

Then the new friend became a speck on horizon,
The traveler felt a familiar sadness.

Not a story of enemies.
Not a story of friends.
Just a story of strangers, with some memories.

You know a time when you seek happiness, truth?

Not because you’re lost.
But you’re closer to where you’re meant to be.
That time, you’ll be, your own sun.
You’ll know that you’re made up of sunlight, thunder and fireworks.

No matter how far you travel, you can never run away from home.

You’ve got — roots of innovation and wings of imagination!
Let them grow.


“This is a not-so-obligatory present, wrapped up in 500 words.”
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Soulful Travel

Wanderlust
(n.) An irresistible desire to travel to understand one’s very existence

Why do you travel?
Yes, I travel.
To follow the echo,
Of millions of souls I pass by.

Don’t you travel?
We all do.
To soothe the longing ache,
Of your never ending wanderlust.

Day after day, day after day,
To cross seas and rivers
To see the majestic ocean,
Lying idle on the face of earth,
As if admiring the sky.

We bump each other.
Cross paths,
Heading to the same place,
But taking different routes.

Beautiful memories. Summers. Winters.
Grand feasts, gaily dances.
Weaving together, the tapestry of life.
Painting together, the kaleidoscope of sky.

Creating harmonious symphonies,
We leave our shadows behind.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep.
~Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

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Why do we travel?

Why do you travel?
Yes, I travel.
To follow the echo,
Of millions of souls I pass by.

To find new paths.
The scent of the fresh grass calls me every time.
Then the north wind whispers.
The sunshine pleads to cross roads,
And deviate.

To follow the flock of birds,
Here and there.
Flutter by. Changing directions.
To follow the rainbow hues.
To reach great places. Sometimes cramped holes.
To get drenched. Or blown away.
To get welcomed, hugged. Or swayed away by nasty faces.

To make friends. Loads of friends, believe me.
To make them feel good. Feel good about themselves.
Called the favorite part of my journey.
Festivities and grandeur.
Pray together, laugh together.

Beautiful memories, grand feasts, gaily dances.
Weaving together, the tapestry of life.
Painting together, the kaleidoscope of sky.
Creating harmonious symphonies,
We leave our shadows behind.

And then there are good-byes.
The part we can’t omit.
But we promise to meet again.
Somewhere. Some place under a different shade.

So, to travel to find the self.
To travel to find my soul.
To travel, because we are searching for a place that makes one feel home.
To believe, one day I’ll find a place,
A place which is worth calling home.
That day I’ll stop. No more travel. Promise.

Yes, I travel.
I get lost.
Yet, I travel.

We all do, on this face of earth.
If not as a poet, then as a poem.

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