Chasing the wind is a quest frowned upon.
To let yourself go to and fro and over yonder.
No destination in mind, no plans made, just a quest to go,
wherever the wind blows.
Vagabond, slothful, freeloader, some call the quester,
only because they don't understand.
On the wings of the wind it is possible
to find one's self,
to answer the plaguing question, why?
Searching, seeking, needing to know, the quester goes.
Going, going, traveling on.
Nothing in the way, no constraint of time,
no need for norms, nor societal games.
Everything is out there,
yet never found by those who laugh and refuse to quest.
But the quester goes, finding and knowing,
learning of self.
Free, free as the wind,
free to come or go, free to know,
free to fly on the wings
of the questing winds.
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