The Wanderer

A lone wanderer
Stranded in the spaces of my heart
Knowing not yet
His identity or his purpose
In being there
Frantic spins of a wheel of fortune
Do not offer an answer
Or an escape
Minute investigations
Uncover no clues
His quest continues
Forever wondering
Who and what he is
Others have offered the suggestion
That he is love
A short pause
Then he starts again
Shaking his head to dispel
Disturbing thoughts
But a seed is planted
And may grow
Possibly leading him to the conclusion
Of his journey
And the identification of his soul.

© Hilary Clark, 1985

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