The Wanderer... Poem by Robert Mutsaers

In relentless motion,
Folded upon a man's lure,
We challenge beauty and cure,
The gift of life's devotion.

The season is here,
No need to sorrow,
No need to understand and drift,
The season is tomorrow,

My love calls for the addition,
The season to explore and experiment,
To translate and hold reason.

Settle in this neighborhood,
Entice its whetted beauty,
Curl its passion gritty,
In sensing the understood.

My love stalls the addiction,
The season to adore and lament,
To abbreviate and hold sedition.

Little is understood,
When I am so abundant,
Ablative and reluctant,
In accepting any public good.

The season is there,
No need to borrow,
No need to understand and swift,
The reason is them we follow.

In relentless notion,
Folded upon a man's pure,
We challenge beauty and secure,
The gift of life's commotion.

Nairobi,15 March 2011