Wanderer

Son, my dear son….

I knew you were asking why father was not near you…

And I can understand your doubts…

Son, dear son…

I was born to be a wanderer

And I have been wandering all these years

Still I wander… and will wander for some more time

Till I die, my dearest

My wandering, my dreams and my longing for a tune

Will go on and on…

In a sunny June morning

I heard the symphony

Of an intricate, beautiful melody…

And in quest of that I set out my journey

Away, away in a world so crammed

Winding roads and narrowing lanes

Teeming conurbations and tamed hamlets

And still I go… here and there…

Son, dear son

You have a whole new world of unheard tales

Of unseen people and unsung rhythms

Be yourself, explore the planet

Get lost in the crowd, search for your roof

And be sure your father is not with you…