The traveler ruffled around,
In search of a place so profound,
Never did he stop to look by,
At the musings of a gentle sky.
The pregnant sun slowly rose,
Boring life, quietly it roared,
Burning with all its pride,
All this –seemed nothing more than a mere disguise.
The purity came trickling down,
The ever so scattered clouds,
But it all went down the drain,
For none would pay heed to their claim.
The wind rustled in joy,
Charming its way, it gleamed,
But to him it seemed,
Far too much of a coy.
The birds skirted in unity,
Sailing boundlessly,
As if headed towards eternity,
Troubled he thought, what a pity.
He marched on hoping,
Waiting for a miracle to happen,
Hardly realizing it was all there to be had,
But no one was looking.
