Vagabond Tales — A Seeker’s Plight

by Melody Jean

vagabondAs I watched, yet again, another neighbor move-out of the condominium complex where I’ve been renting for the last two years, a metaphorical epiphany took hold.

I’m a vagabond; a vagabond in this world.

A Million Places and Faces

I’ve lived what seems like a million places.

An exaggeration, sure, but I can count at least eight different cities and towns that I’ve called “home” for some duration over the last 20 years.  From Syracuse NY, to Boston, to New York City, to Harrisburg PA, and onward.

As is the nature of this style of living, numerous people have come and gone in my lifetime.

And with every new city, or town, I’m introduced to new worldly encounters and experiences including friends, lovers and work opportunities.

The Search for ‘Something’

While I’ve accomplished many elements that American society deems necessary to have a “fulfilled life,” at this juncture I can no longer ignore the feeling that I’ve been wandering aimlessly.

Yet pointedly, of course, in search of something.

The outward manifestation of this seeking, if you will, can be depicted by my comings and goings in different cities, towns, and places in a short period of time.

These moves, in a sense, symbolize my inward expedition for that missing piece.

The urge to continue in this vein rests in the catacomb of my sublime. And it’s not readily apparent to those I encounter along life’s flight.

You see, I could never really put my finger on it; until now, that is.

Everything is Transitory

From an outward, material, perspective; nothing is constant.

Everything is, has been, and I know always will be, transitory.

Inside and outside of my bodily existence.

Who, What, Where are WE?

We’re a part of the cosmos; how we were “created” has been scientifically proven (perhaps).

Boom — it’s called the Big-Bang Theory.

We’re balls of energy, made up of light and water, we now have flesh and bone.

Yet, what’s beyond that? The drive that keeps us going? And to where are we going?

It’s hard for me to entertain that what is us or me didn’t come from somewhere regardless of how my body came to be in a material form.

I’ve pondered this quite a bit and through experience, know, that I’m going back to where I originated.

So it doesn’t matter to me that which where I live in this earth-phase because my final destination lies in wait.

Why the Suffering?

This physical experience is filled with joys and triumphs and pain and suffering; I can’t negate that.

I’ve been privy to both.

A key element of anguish, for me anyway, has been to push me inward.

To shake me, and wake me up from my eternal slumber. Open my eyes to the reality of the heart, or my essence beyond my physical body.

A World of Illusions

So I continue on in this reality, or perhaps better said, illusionary world. Whether figuratively, or in actuality, moving from place to place.

In search of that missing piece.

In the interim, all I can do is continue to do the best that I can.

The best that I can in being of service, remaining productive, and maintaining some semblance of balance while I continue on this plane of existence.

A Student of Learning

My dad says, “The world is our classroom.”

Yes, I’m a student, I’m a seeker and I’m learning; until I return back Home.

– Vagabond Tales –

I feel like a vagabond

in this world.

Moving endlessly

from place to place.

Names and faces change;

neighbors and lovers come and go.


It’s a transitory state of existence;

each moment temporary in every sense.

The only constant is me.


As I make my way on,

all I know for certain

is that I must continue

to follow the light;

it will lead me home.










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