Wandering Man

“We are, finally, all wanderers in search of knowledge. Most of us hold the dream of becoming something better than we are, something larger, richer, in some way more important to the world and ourselves. Too often, the way taken is the wrong way, with too much emphasis on what we want to have, rather than what we wish to become.”

— Louis L’Amour

POETRY: She Buddha by Ginger Che

Silence is within her
She cultivates herself
She educates herself
Giving birth to dreams, hope, and faith is her duty
She knows that nothing is stronger than love
She floats on the flame of life
She leads and she follows
She is nothing and everything
She is no one and everyone
Find her and feed her
Take your precious time
For she is within
YOU

POETRY: Love After Love by Derek Walcott

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

POETRY: Searchers by James Kavanaugh

Some people do not have to search – they find their niche early in life and rest there, seemingly contented and resigned. They do not seem to ask much of life, sometimes they do not seem to take it seriously. At times I envy them, but usually I do not understand them – seldom do they understand me.

I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand.

We like to walk along the beach – we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well.

Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with the one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know – unless it is to share our laughter.

We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we want to love and be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls.

We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love. We are wanderers, dreamers and lovers, lonely souls who dare ask of life everything good and beautiful.

For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves.

James Kavanaugh, There Are Men Too Gentle To Live Among Wolves