Travel Poetry
Restlessly and irritable he looks back on his life
Wondering why this one time feels more important
Than other bridges he has crossed
Hopelessly he turns himself inside out
Looking for help to solve all the questions
The ones that he can’t answer, and doesn’t know where to find help
Although time seems to be going by so fast
Like the lightning flicker of yellow on a passing night train
Rafting in Tena Ecuador
He can’t help but be stuck in this moment
The small hand ticks painfully slow
Anxiety plagues this moment and can’t let him be
Patience is not a virtue but a tool of the apathetic
The light stays strong in the corner of the room
But the fire inside that burned is simmering
A blank slate doesn’t seem right, but neither does this moment
He wanders to the most random place
One where only he may know
Sits down and whispers to himself, partly hoping someone will hear
He looks back on the hopeless moments
All the times he realized he was alive
Even times he thought that he might be floating he felt the blood run in his veins
The current runs swiftly carrying leaves and twigs and shrubs
He must have sat there for hours
Could have been days, to him it seemed
Murky blue-green waters he hopes
Will provide the answers to this riddle
If only life were easy, then would he be waiting here?
He’s not sure what he’s queuing for
He’s not sure how much longer he should wait
Another light log floats past, another hour on his watch
The sound of the breaking rapid is so constant
Something he wishes was in his life
But whenever something’s normal he throws it out in spite
Repetitive whistles of birds overhead
Ants are busy around his knees
Each sound he hears he feels selfish, as they scurry for life
Each star carries meaning
Or that’s the story that they’ll tell
The moon hangs so carelessly, he’s jealous of that too
The light overtakes the stars
The moon settles into patterns of blue and white
He wishes his worry would disappear with them
The sun comes up and breeds a fresh hope
Something found not near but far
Elastic tension fades as he soaks the rejuvenated air
The walk this time isn’t lonely
The ground he walks is firm, and rich
He has nothing this time to fear
The morning bird’s song is happy
He yawns it all in, and bears a wide smile
‘Cuz this time he knows just where to go…
Written and Photographed by Brendan van Son