The Travellers' Creed

THE TRAVELLER’S CREED

by rado gatchalian

i’m leaving the days of my past for the future I do not hold

i’m leaving my children in favour of uncertain dreams and hope;

all my pride I kept it for a while: though, before I was the master of my slaves,

now, i am a slave of many masters – unknown and sometimes mad;

as i carry the woods towards the unseen forest and high mountains

i lift my soul with prayers and footprints of valour;

like many dreamers, i travel with one bag of strong will

and a pack of hope to a land i do not know,

like all travellers, i wish to spend my days gathering pebbles from various spots

and keeping it tough inside my pockets of memories,

like all searchers, i will kiss the moon and clouds

and sing a song only fairies can understand,

as i wander from one point to another

i see a bit of light and a bit of shadow –

like all journey there is no stopover on the road

but only a signpost which says: “Slow Down”.