The Vagabond

He's sitting awkwardly, set aside
Dirty hands holding one stained leg
Grey beard grown to a point
Wide-brimmed flat-cap anointing his head

Gaze far away
Not on the buildings or people
Or his patchy mongrel stray

And I begin to wonder what he's staring at
Or if he's contemplating a great puzzle
Something mankind had long struggled to unravel

Perhaps he will smile suddenly
Laugh maybe, cry at his discovery
Rock back in quiet conclusion

The might of men colluded to cloud them
And he, homeless him, mind free
Nothing chained to reality

Has he seen through the din occluded dim
Seen what we have long sought
Had a peek at life's mystery
And touched the answer briefly?

by Jan De Raeymaeker

Other poems of DE RAEYMAEKER (6)

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