The Voyage of Metatron (Part IV)

Part IV. Why Am I?

Loneliness, the burden of solitude,
Follows me everywhere I wander.
The divide between jungle and sand marks
The unforgotten, unknown journey—
Crossing the line means starting a new life.

There is something to loneliness that gives
One direction that cannot be found
Among the stifling, enveloping crowds.
In them men walk in circles for hours,
Shaking the same hands again and again.

Loneliness is a healing violence;
It undoes atrocious upbringings—
Acts so numerous and varied that they
Cannot be seen for their large number,
And the shade they provide is misleading.

I am now the lone tree in a large field.
Those around me have been cut down
To build houses, stoke fires and to smelt tools.
Under the shade my growth was stunted.
Now with the sunlight I grow strong and tall.

It is not strange, really, that I should seek
Fire and axes to fell those dead homes,
When my roots spread throughout the entire field,
And my branches reach up to the sky;
My roots touch nothing, and I shade no one.

In my trek through the forest I know that
If ever I met someone I would
Leave my quest and follow him forever.
That is the pain loneliness provides,
Though some would see it as its only cure.

I remain determined but weakened
By the very thing that makes me strong.
I remain hopeful but filled with despair,
By the one thing that makes me go on.
I remain alone; and yet, I remain.

The forgotten, unknown journey remains.
A tree, I remain vulnerable
To earth and fire, and to wind and water—
The latter my tongues, the former my tools,
Unspoken and universally used.

My existence had once been forged for me,
And now I forge my own existence.
I form it from whatever tools I can,
And I speak it to myself in the
Only language that I ever knew.

Had I still had others to tell it to
It would never have become my own.
I go to seek those who take it away,
And to plant in the surrounding fields
Because loneliness will one day take me.