Song of the Wanderer
For those of us who know a warm bed is only a hike away
Through the rain or snow or sleet
Will we tread on with weary feet.
We walk on fast, for we do dread
Our weary feet won’t find a bed.
It’s loneliness we feel each day
For fear that we won’t find our way
Back to the homes where we once dwelled,
Back to the forests we once felled,
Back to the valleys and the fields,
Casting away our swords and shields.
If off the path one of us falls,
The rest shall answer to his calls.
If we cannot find what we seek,
And grow too tired or too weak,
Then we shall help each other through
For that is what true Nomads do.
Oh look, before us now, a bend:
A mark of our long journey’s end.
Now off the path with joyous bounds
Do our feet tread on kinder grounds.
Again might we face come what may,
But that is for another day.
(2005)
I wrote this as a sort of tribute to the wonderful works of Tolkien, of which I have always had a special place in my heart.
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