Traveller’s Cant
Posted on 10. May, 2006 by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Honor, Spiritual
I have walked a thousand leagues and seen I have many things. My steps are that which press my past, yet lead me to the unseen. In this time I have lost myself and have found what may have been. Now here I sit in front of you, wishing to tell this tale
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A grand recant which leads you to and from my family
Not a story of words, but of feeling and emotion
This is not a tale of epic saga nor happy ending
Merely a phrase from a life still being lived
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My life has never been so warm, nor has it been so well
I have fought with all the days gone by from later till now. Yet I find many things forgotten and few remembered. This is the life I was born to be
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Wandering from land in search of destiny
Despair and loss destroying the wine from my lips
But so did I find peace in singing with my family of old
Neither faith nor hope could control my path, for I am a wanderer
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Going to and fro may indeed sound like an odd way of living. But it is within those travels step by step that I learn of what I love. I find it peaceful, nigh comforting to know that my home is everywhere. A home made of family – which compares to nothing of where I roam
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I danced one night with my sister and fell upon my knees. It was not a fast dance, just a dance that reminded me of warmth. I danced that one time for all to see and then I left the scene. It was not a sad dance, just a dance that reminded me of living.
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It was not always this way, but I cannot remember when it wasn’t. My steps have been so far apart that I often cannot recall. But I remember that dance with my sister, and I quite enjoyed the fall. It wasn’t about the dancing, merely the comfort and beauty of family
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I drank a bottle of wine with my brother and fell upon my rear. It was not a good wine, just a wine that reminded me of our humor. I drank that one time for all to hear and then I believe I left the scene. It was not a tasteful wine, just a wine that reminded me of laughing.
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It has often been this way, but I cannot remember when I cared about it or not. Relaxing with family has always been the best part of what I recall. But I don’t remember the foul taste of poor wine, only laughing throughout our words. It wasn’t about the wine, merely the comfort and humor of family
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So you see this is who I am, not an epic warrior or uncharitable soul. Just a wanderer who remembers little of where I’ve been, but everything of who I’ve been
I am not an individual nor am I alone, I am that which reminds me of living. A memory taken with each breath, remembering and enjoying my family
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I so often miss my family.
