The Explorer

Please, forgive me, I have nothing to say –

Silence has become my permanent state;

I am absent from this feast in my name;

It’s been months since I have last seen my face;


I’ve been living in the desert too long,

Looking into things which I used to fear;

And you know, they have been looking at me,

And it scares me that they liked what they saw;


Please, forgive me for the cold of my hands –

It’s been years since they have felt human warmth;

Dry skin, tempered by black rocks and white storms,

Is the skin, I think, I never will shed;


Please, forgive the taste of salt on my lips,

The glow in my eyes when, on a sleepless night

I will look into the oceans inside

Which I dived in, and which dived into me;


Please, forgive me that I’m gone all the time

And that I can’t tell the stories I bring

In my chest; like dreams, I trap them within –

If I let them fly, I’ll turn into dust

4 thoughts on “The Explorer

    1. Thank you for commenting, Carl! It always amazes me how you interpret my writing exactly the way I intend it! I also think that the Explorer is talking to himself/herself as he/she has no home to return to and no one to ask forgiveness from.

  1. Thank you! I’m glad you found your own way of relating to the poem. I used to try having ‘those conversations’ with people, too, but most of the time I would feel the words getting stuck in my chest: big and palpable, they were living memories rather than words; their impact would render me speechless.

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