I have nothing to give,
save my breath and my faith:
take this broken body.
I’ve travelled everywhere,
but was nowhere present.
I’ve talked to a million strangers;
I don’t know their names from their faces.
But when you come to me, I remember.
I used to be a child, once. I had feelings.
I was awake.
You teach me to reconnect the dots. To reassemble,
what was shattered. To have the courage to face,
those people I’ve left behind.
You teach me that solitude is not the only answer;
you help me to give;
you help me to grieve.
Sometimes, I wonder, why it is,
that our paths have crossed.
Shouldn’t we have met so long ago?
I feel like a child again,
sauntering amongst the lilies.
You help me to live.
You help me to give.
From "At The End Of My Travels" by Daniel Viragh.
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