The Explorer

Eyes in the forest

follow each of the steps

and his movements.

Unknown to this land

moving alone

lost in his labyrinth

he can’t see, or hear or smell them.

In this continent we are lost

he screamed to himself.

Hours pass by,

watched by his own death

vividly remembering each decision

each moment of those days;

crossing the river, its wetlands and the grasses,

the mud of the ravine, the morning’s warmth,

a palm tree with a cluster of yellow fruit.

That night, like every night,

etches his initials on the closest tree trunk,

revisits the journey, writes his dairy,

describing this virgin world

of strange plants and animals,

thinks of his people and his route

still uncertain,

he wraps inside his blanket, watching the stars,

takes asylum in the deep night and sleeps

dreaming of other places:

a cobblestone street

a gate secured with a padlock

a garden surrounded by walls

in that child, that he was

on the other side of his world.

Stories are yet to be told,

no ancestors have ever dreamt him

no word, yet, to describe this lost man

much less a name

as it would be a way of accepting the intruder

adopting it as part,

there are no comments nor opinions

from the skinks, the crow or the magpie

only unspoken questions without answers.

But he exists, walks and doesn’t understand the land

its custodians or the law

its walking tracks, its waterholes, its changing breeze,

he doesn’t belong, only passes through,

both temporary and transient,

an automat, a fragile body

weak for his hunger.

In the air, senses his death,

waiting amidst ravings

understands that the earth transforms him

absorbs him

there are no hands to help.

The labyrinth opens in an instant

and there is no more

only vague tales stay

unfinished questions

a disappearing idea.

August 2026