The Dreams Of A Trav'ler's Soul

As I search the world for hallowed ground, and hallowed people, looking from ocean to ocean, soul to soul, and there, in you, I found a piece of my puzzle
But only a small piece, and a peace as brittle as ice under sweet cali sunshine.
And I must let it remain, one of life's limitless mysteries, the spaces that lie just between the bleak worries of 'what if' and the trav'ler's tales of ' oh, well'.
Sometimes I have to wonder if I know why I look for what I'm looking for, if I chose this existence, or if it chose me, would it matter? Minutes go by like days, and days like years, years like fractions of fleeting dreams, forgotten in the triumphs and sorrows of the now
There are bridges to build as well as burn, but who am I to judge which are which, and why?
I used to search for a window, but I found a mirror instead, and when I looked in that mirror I had no love for the soul that stared back at me: and I walked through the mirror.
What I found was an ocean, and on it's ragged grey shore there was a boat. And the waves were calling me; I had loved the land of all I'd known and it had scorned me,
So I let go.
I had to live and let live, I told myself, I knew the cost and I payed with the only thing I had to give: my soul.
And I know now, I know where the edge is because I've fallen off, I'd tell you but you wouldn't believe me
And know I know, I know where the sky is because I've flown, and I'd tell you if you ever asked.
And I know now, I know what it is to hunger, and I know what it is to devote every atom of your being to a cause, and what it is stand before god and not kneel, but to bow to the god in everyone.
Oh yes I know, I know what it is to take comfort in the arms of yesterday, and I know what it is to say "all is fair in love and war."
And I climbed a mountain and I swam in the sea, and I walked the desert and I combed the sky, and the puzzle just kept growing.

And I dreamed. I dreamt of of the Far East, and walking the sun, and of you, and of the part of myself that I did not know. And I dreamt of angels.
And the tea in my hands is losing its warmth to the light of the cold moon, as it sits in the sky and tells its truth, a truth that few can bear to hear
And I'm not sure what I wanted to tell you, I'm not even sure who I am,
really. But some lands will never be discovered.