The Odyssey

by CWK

Ten years I journeyed toward the sun --

only to find my journey just begun,

and feeling little kindling for a new fire

to sustain my fading pilgrim desires –

I wanted to sit down.

Tired:

of sleeping in other men’s beds;

of lodging in other men’s sheds;

of wearing other men’s threads;

of feasting where other men fed;

of dreaming in other men’s heads;

of saying what other men said;

of reading what other men read;

of leading where other men led;

of raising other men’s dead;

of nurturing what other men bred;

of driving other men’s sleds;

and, worst of all,

careening into other men’s dread.

Constant inconstancy has been my lot:

chasing the rainbow across the horizon, but not,

ever finding gold, or rest – even a warm cot.

But I march on, feebly, yet sure

of a new dawn, a new hope, a new cure

for all my old weariness,

and my waking sleeplessness.

I have been pulled onto the stage:

above is heaven;

below is hell.

I have ranted; I have raged,

but now I know. I hear the bell.

The best I can do is play my part,

and play it well --

Play it till my bitter end;

until, at last,

the new ending begins.