Once I was stranded in my pride, My vision blind by the scope of all things prescribed. Then by the words of a contemplative mind, My dreams took flight and the sage within me thrived. What once with certainty I had considered myth, Fiction gone amiss, the stuff of the abyss. I see as more than tales men whisper in the night, The truth will come to flight and proof will come with sight. To the ends of the Earth, To a place where dreams make berth. I feel the blood of ancients swimming through my veins, A call to see what they have seen. A faith in dreams and visions in my soul ingrained; Could I believe what they believed? Once the envy of my peers, My new conviction have resigned me to their jeers. I must stand up to my fears, Lest I be consumed for years, the path to me is clear. By providence alone ride to the marches and beyond, Where few have gone I'll travel on. Until I find the legends that men have lost, Consigned to memory, cast aside as Zeus or Thoth. Onward I ride to the west and to the east, To seek the proof I need and my torment's surcease. Verities confound me as a stag eludes a hound, But I'll have my vindication and tell of what I've found