A weirdo world wanderer's lament


Am I the weirdo here?

I reminisce of things I never knew

is that experience common 

or something only I do? 



If I'm the oddball how is it 

I can so stark-sharply recall 

times I never lived in and

places I've never been at all? 


to storied lands I traveled

through the ancient mariners' door

on the meandering slow train 

to unknown known days of yore


my vehicle being dreams 

mysterious not mystery

it's then I see most clearly 

olden era and locality


but what I view bright shiny

what's shown in eye of  night

becomes confusedly shrouded

in dawn's early morning light 


as wave on sand recedes my

waking ken slowly ebbs away 

like fog my clarity fades to

tattered fragments of grey 


why unfamiliar days and ways

and foreign geography  

seem so familiar I know not

am I a freak or visionary?


curious and curiouser 

nightmare, shade or prophecy?

something or nothing at all

perhaps fathoms deep memory?


I don't always know if what

I see happened in history

collective conscience recalling 

or some omen or augury


It's also not been revealed

if for better or for worse 

I'm just night tripper or on

my funeral carriage hearse


one thing I know for sure

as I ride the midnight train

That to those far-off shores I'll 

return and return again


Thanks for reading. With love from the weirdo world wanderer









 




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