Travel changes the traveler, and illuminates the ignorance of friends untraveled. |
Quote Prompt: "Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living."Miriam Beard Version 1 (five lines per stanza -in case of line limit - 35 Lines-7 stanzas) Parts of Me The more I travel the more I am confused about the ignorance of those around me and their beliefs about the world. I left them behind once and when I returned I found they never caught up. How can I ever go back to who I was before? How can I take part in bashing this group or that when my feet have graced their soil and their faces have left their print on my soul? How can I not refuse to call their country "third world" when its the only world they know, and one I'm blessed they showed me? How can I not make welcome those people in my home when they so graciously opened theirs to me? How can I put into words the change they made in me? How can I ever doubt the strength of the human spirit when I've seen what they must do just to live and raise their children? How can I not sense the passion shared with me? So I walk among my people, now whole but somehow not, there are parts of me left scattered, across the globe and parts of me made whole by their hospitality and love. Version 2 (six lines per stanza - 36 lines-6 stanzas) Parts of me The more I travel the more I am confused about the ignorance of those in my home town. I left them behind once and they never caught up. And now, I can never return to who I was before my journey. How can I take part in bashing this group or that when my feet have graced their soil and their faces have left their print upon my soul? How can I not refuse to call their country a third world nation when its the only world they know, and one I'm blessed they shared with me? How can I not make welcome those people in my homeland when they so graciously opened theirs to me? How I wish they could see the changes they made in me? How can I ever doubt the strength of the human spirit when I've seen what they must do just to live and raise their children? How can I not sense the passion these people had for their families? So I walk among my people, now whole but somehow not. There are parts of me left scattered, in countries across the globe, and parts of me made whole by their hospitality and love. SWPoet |