The Traveler: A Poem

This one is dedicated to the time traveler… may you find your peace.

A strange detachment settled, light and deep,
After the letting go, the endless weep.
The old connections, fraying, snapped, and fell,
And in that quiet, new perceptions swell.
Now, when I meet a soul, a curious shift,
I feel a time traveler, blessed with a rare gift.
Stepping into moments, brief and undefined,
With all the past and future left behind.

Each face a fleeting glimpse, a whispered age,
A character upon life’s endless stage.
I see their hopes, their laughter, and their stride,
As if from centuries, I’ve stepped aside.
A momentary presence, here and then gone,
Observing life’s procession, from dusk til dawn.
A gentle current, through the ages I roam,
No longer rooted, nor truly far from home.

Now when I walk, the crowd’s of fleeting show,
A timeless journey, watching currents flow.
Each face, a story, briefly intersects,
A curious glance, the moment it reflects.
I sip the laughter, touch the casual hand,
A transient guest within a foreign land.
Observing nuance, learning silent cues,
The human drama, with its vibrant hues.

But there’s a distance, finely, keenly honed,
A quiet readiness, perfectly owned.
No rooted branch, no deep, entwining vine,
Just quick detachment, effortlessly mine.
I am the traveler, seeing all unfold,
A story witnessed, gracefully untold.
An observer always, poised and ever free,
Never quite of the group, just watching, me.

Comments

2 responses to “The Traveler: A Poem”

  1. Harold Flowers Avatar
    Harold Flowers

    That is beautiful, like the smell of desert rain some things can’t be explained, each of us have our very own senses , what does orange blossoms smell like to you?
    I imagine, “ heaven”

    1. Elizabeth Avatar

      Orange blossoms smell like….smiles.

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