The seeker seeks, the searcher finds,

    The adventurer travels around his own mind.

The winds that blow and storms that shout, 

    and rock both tree and bush about.

The wanderer carries a burning torch,

    To light his way with no remorse.

No solice does a watcher find,

    when seeking troubles in his own mind.

Cold hearts grow, lone spirits become strong,

    and find some place where they both belong.

In the loving arms of nature bare, 

    there is no sorrow, misery or despair.

Only love exists with us now, 

    if you come with me, 

        I'll show you how. 

 

Sophie J Pugsley

April 2020