I am a wanderer upon this Earth
and will not deny that since my birth
my foot hath found no place of rest
my heart nowhere that suits it best
I’ve wandered far and never been
at home where I did not roam again
I’ve watched the ocean waves so wild
and stood on mountaintops as a child
known much of pain, little of pleasure
waited long to embrace life’s treasure
I am a wanderer upon this Earth
weeper of tears, purveyor of mirth
I’ve seen the good, witnessed the bad
had times of plenty then lost all I had
known how it feels to be hungry and cold
been both a timid mouse and a lion bold
I’ve called upon God and heard his voice
wrestled with the devil without a choice
sometimes I’ve won, sometimes I’ve lost
and for my losing paid the awful cost
I am a wanderer upon this Earth
as years multiply so does life’s worth
I’ve watched wicked prosper and good die
to those I’ve loved forced to say goodbye
I’ve plumbed the depths of what and why
of what is the truth and what is but a lie
a seeker of wisdom not fame have been I
a poet of love, a champion of justice too
lived through the old and envisioned the new
and found the worth of being a wanderer on Earth
I love this poem, it is so well written, and so meaningful,
perhaps we are all wanderers upon this earth.
after all it belongs to none of us, we nearly borrow a place on it for a
short period of time.
Thank you so much for sharing your poem, I enjoyed it emencely.
Steve
This poem has passion, poignancy, purpose and a lot of heart. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. I drew strength from it. Many thanks for this honest assessment, especially the last verse.
Physical wanderers and those who wander by imagination are kindred souls with the same goal. They search for a place to rest their soul and share their love. I hope you have found both Belle. May peace and love be always with you my dear friend. Jon Michael
Eh . . . I wandered for two lost decades. This indepth piece of poetry hit home to me, big time. You can learn a lot by wandering, learning how to survive is essential to be able to learn other things of course. Good poetry!
This is not a drill. The attack on Pearl. They were the ghost planes of the night, deadly, illusive, sharp-clawed Black Cats. The Memoirs of ARM H.P. Lawrence, a Pearl Harbor survivor, Black Cat, and decorated war veteran.
The true story of Cheryl Pierson Cuccio who made headlines in 1986 and her husband Rob Cuccio. Cheryl was abused sexually and physically and Rob died for 43 minutes on Cheryl's 43rd birthday.
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perhaps we are all wanderers upon this earth.
after all it belongs to none of us, we nearly borrow a place on it for a
short period of time.
Thank you so much for sharing your poem, I enjoyed it emencely.
Steve
Regis
I used to be a wanderer,
I lived a life that's hard to explain.
Now I stay in one place,
And wander and wonder in my brain.
Michael D.
Beautiful poetry envisioned from your heart.
Lady Mary Ann
Hugsss.....