The Found Traveler

Which one is the lost one?
The one who cannot find his destination?
Or is it the one who has no destination?
At least the former knows where is going.
But how can the latter be lost if he has no goal?
He is exactly where he intends to be. Anywhere.

I asked myself these questions as I made my way through the shifting sand.
Nothing but sweeping sands and sky; like an open maze.
I am so thoroughly bored.
Travelers from the desert invariably happen by the towns.
I never know what astonishing anecdote to expect from their visit.
But here I am, and I do not see them or their fairy tales.
All I see is the sky, the sand, and whatever fantasy my mind sees as make believe.

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