NaPoWriMo 2022: Poem of the Day – The Weaver of Words

Day 7 and yes, I know I’m behind. But I’m trying to catch-up, slowly but surely. 

This day’s prompt is ‘Travelling’, and while I do have some experience of travel up until my early 20s, after that, trying to build a career sort of came first. Knowing who I was, and what I could do and become was more important than booking hotels and flights and exploring a foreign city for a few weeks. Besides the fact, I never quite had enough cash flow to do that.

So, I did the next best thing. I travelled in my mind. I was already an avid reader, but now I explored genres I hadn’t read before, started to write my own stories, and built up worlds within my mind much richer than the ones I’d had as a child.

This was the perfect way to escape when things got tough. Maybe escape wasn’t quite the right way of dealing with things, but it certainly helped things growing up and maturing into my twenties. And now, I write stories and poetry. Words help me make sense of things, and that’s something we all need – a way to make sense of the chaos and change around us.

So, here’s my poem today – all about being a writer and travelling, not in reality, but in the realm of the mind.

I hope you enjoy it.

The Weaver of Words

I’m a dreamer, a wanderer, a weaver of tales
But the thing is, these wanderings, exist not on a trail
They sit in my mind, like the leaves of a tree
Floating softly, down, down and fancy-free
But oh how I wish to walk the current known lands
See wonders, breathe stories, and walk over white sands
So I can share in the dreaming, the travels I’ve heard
And fly as quick and free as a migrating bird

I have a kind of freedom, I know it deep down
There’s no one but me that holds my crown
I let myself dream, and those dreams live wild
Sometimes they’re the dreams of a wayward child
I’ve built up worlds to disappear into on a whim
Places of light and of fun, to escape when life’s grim
Imaginary friends, oh I never had those
But whole countries and continents. Where? Only I know

I built them all up from the lines of a page
Pictures and stories from screens and of stage
So whenever I dream, and I wander again
I whisk myself off to my dreaming-mind den
How can you travel when all you do is sit still?
You ask, I say simple – I spin and I quill
Others walk lands already seen and well-known
But I’ve created a world of which I hold the throne.

Kate @ Kandid Chronicles x


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