My tears leave no trail
for how else would you guide me home?
I know that when the time comes
you will add your voices to mine
and this island will be found
Singing the song it has always known by heart.
My tears leave no trail
because where would they go
amidst such a yearning need
for fields, oceans, stars...suns?
For such sweet sanctuaries of struggle as these
where the waterfalls can be remembered
and the hills once more released from Her slumber?
My tears leave no trail
for this is home enough for every lost child of the sea
who hears the bulbul's lonely mirth
dancing in the canopy of their reddening sails.
And home is always, always found
when one has the temerity to fall into the arms of the radiant deep
and swim into Death's quiet lagoon
where the heart of every nomad warrior sleeps.
My tears leave behind no trail.
They leave behind flickering darkness, instead,
and fine-fresh light hewn from the slabs of scars
winding across the map that cannot be seen
of your fears, and mine, embracing at last.
If I have wandered far,
it has only been so that in my sorrow,
I left you behind:
the greatest journey of them all.