once i was stranded in my pride,
my vision blind by the scope of all things prescribed.
then by the words of a contemplative mind,
my dreams took flight and the sage within me thrived.
what once with certainty i had considered myth,
fiction gone amiss, the stuff of the abyss.
i see as more than tales men whisper in the night,
the truth will come to flight and proof will come with
to the ends of the earth,
to a place where dreams make berth.
i feel the blood of ancients swimming through my veins,
a call to see what they have seen.
a faith in dreams and visions in my soul ingrained;
could i believe what they believed?
once the envy of my peers,
my new conviction have resigned me to their jeers.
i must stand up to my fears,
lest i be consumed for years, the path to me is clear.
by providence alone ride to the marches and beyond,
where few have gone i’ll travel on.
until i find the legends that men have lost,
consigned to memory, cast aside as zeus or thoth.
onward i ride to the west and to the east,
to seek the proof i need and my torment’s surcease.
verities confound me as a stag eludes a hound,
but i’ll have my vindication and tell of what i’ve