Word: vagabonde
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...Vagabond lay musing in his Tower last evening and weaving many a journey for his gentle readers he received a call which was as a bucket of water to the fire in his hearth or as an assassin to those warm spirits who occupy his Sanctum in the mellow hours of the evening. It was from one of his superiors--and a voice much too harsh for the peace of his walls--advising the Vagabond to change his ways: To get out into the sun and feel from those deep philosophical thoughts which have darkened his journeys of late...
...with this sad spirit that the Vagabond muses this morning. He is very sensitive to his friends' pleasure; he would lean over backwards to hold those with whom in past years he journeyed so well and found so many treasures. And the Vagabond will take travels in every realm of adventure. But sadness draws us within ourselves and this morning the Vagabond cannot help thinking of his wounds...
This morning the Vagabond embarks on his first journey of the season. For fear there are those young ones as yet unfamiliar with his ways, a happy word of counsel may not be out of place. Sagmus, his old friend and philosopher, is wont to take the Vagabond under his warm wing. Not to reform, mind you, for the philosopher is a bit of a vagrant himself, but to befriend with wisdom. And the Vagabond seeks that precious jewel with all his heart. The talk was of travel; yet not travel of the common sort but of the imagination...
...imagination is dear to the Vagabond and necessary for those who would come with him for as he is a poet of the open road so is he a votary of the real. For the real is imaginary; the imaginary is perfect. That was a thought which came to the Vagabond as a young lad; and one which he would hold as he cherishes his youth. Though the heart, the Vagabond has been told, doesn't wrinkle, still well he knows it becomes poor. For in youth all things are of the same importance; nothing escapes our attention; and dreams...
That is what Sagmus said; and that is the Vagabond's way. He is too poor to go otherwise; and too rich to want to do so. Imagination is the free way. Unbounded by space its roads are endless; timeless, its speed is as the flash of ideas. And so perhaps to Rome one hour; to Greece another. A trip to the stars before noon; to the soil of the earth as quickly. Nor will the Vagabond confine himself simply to places; but more important, to ideas. Therein lies the adventure of adventure. So come prepared, ye young ones. Soon...