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The Visitor
He came out of nowhere,
Holding nothing,
Saying nothing, Needing
nothing,
Loving everything.
You could see it in
his eyes,
A strange man, an old man, a sad man,
with piercing, loving eyes
He sang a song, a strange song, a sad song, a loving song
with a strange, haunting melody.
He sang about a far away land,
Where people loved,
and rode in horse-drawn carriages,
on cobblestone streets.
He sat at the village square,
Night after night,
Singing his song,
Drinking his wine.
People came from everywhere to hear him sing,
Old people, young people,
Lovers, friends, enemies,
People from other villages.
Then winter came, a cold winter, a dark winter, a windy winter.
Snow covered the land completely
and noone came to the village square to hear the song.
The old man sang alone.
Then one day, a chilling day, a dark day, a windy day,
He sailed out,
On a dark sea, on a stormy sea, on an unfriendly sea.
......................,...............
Never
to be seen again.
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© 2000 George Pararas-Carayannis
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