All that you wanted to know

'Hey so you are the love, that they all long for'
The lonely saunterer's soul yelled out
At the little red bubble that flew by.

Yes, I'd say, but you need to believe,
For half of your kind thinks I'm hard to find,
The bestowed ones fathom trouble to bind

The paces of the former quickened, beats pulsed,
'So you hold the key to my happiness?'
The eyes surged ahead explicit with all plight.

Love laughed, as the silent path lit up with sound
'The mystic sketches etched in your head
Long for those, which shan't be yours, until bled.'

Comprehending in confusion, the former trodded.
'So pain is a part of the plan?', the saunterer quipped.
Eyes lit up 'And tomorrow isnt a wonderland?'

Love silenced, for it never does sway.
'I never said I had the key to things you pray.'
'I never said you could find me if you stray.'

The saunterer puzzled in convalescence,
'But looking to love, and hoping to find,
Isn't that the one that lights up my kind?'

Love sighed at the mundane hearsay,
'Why does your kind forget that life is a sail
And not a harbour.'

Saunterer quipped, 'Love isnt a anchor, then?'

Love fluttered 'Aint an anchor, but the wave,
To surge and ebb is the way I behave.
Sometimes I bind and charm,
Other times I elude and alarm.'

Saunterer settled, 'So finding you isnt the plan.'
'Nay, discovering yourself is, I am an illusion
along the path, ' Love fancied in delight.

'Calm oceans channelize rough streams.
'I need peace'-your kind do scream.'
'But few of you are meant to be able,
end up believing you are feeble.'

The saunterer soared in speculation.
'You struggle, You triumph, You fight.
Yet you dont give up all along the plight.
Life is led by the above norms.
And love isnt a birdsong.'

'You know where you belong
Yet you fight to hold or move on,
Love isnt the end, just a song,
That would just rhyme along.'

'Gloat in jubilance and sing thy rhyme,
So that souls would clasp in your chime.
Thy happiness reflects as your vibes,
And hence, will attract your tribe.'

'What you search outside, you find in self,
Often what promises forever, dwells in solitude,
Your expedition is far, long and daunting,
Worry is not where you want to be heading.'

The saunterer saw as the bubble flew high,
And disappeared in an empty bluish sky,'
Smiling, 'As hard as we may deny,
The facts that we move away and astray,
are the ones that really need to glorify.'

Thus whistling he went by ahead,
To the wonderland that he saw spread :)

-Sti

What matters is the journey, not the destination.