Here is a poem that I wrote while traveling through Nepal last year. Sometimes, travel and being an outsider in a new place has the ability to break you down, but just as quickly often builds you back up. I hope you enjoy.

Purpose Poem.

My father’s pen knife, red with purple string

My heart, my head, are unsure of my being.

The tangible and what I love I know aren’t always there

Confusion of a Dharma Bum, but one that’s got short hair.

Tracks trekked far and wide, I’ve looked 

for Peace, Love, Tranquility

The harder that I search, it seems

I feel they’re farther away from me.

But I’ll keep going, living this life though it were my last

Always living now and forward, forget about the past.

So I pick up weary feet,

One after the other

I know all strangers that I meet 

Are sisters and my brothers.

Simply put, I’m just a man

My purpose plain and true

To live my life as best I can

And finds the rest that do.