It’s 10 years ago that my brother left home,
Since that day on he began to roam,
Overseas to foriegn lands,
to fulfil a lifetime of Godly plans,
he left a note on the table,
and parents worrying because they think he’s mentally unstable.
‘I am going away for some time and I don’t when I ‘ll be coming back’,
But that’s not the first time that he’s done that.
He’s been away before and I found him then, and I still believe that I will find him again.
Often labelled as mentally ill, medicated by
doctors with their little white pills,
Only stopping the problem and never healing,
No time for the spirit to resolve some feeling,
and to let nature take its course,
Instead modern day medication ruled his mental holacaust.
The only clue that we got was a cash transaction on the Italian Coast,
A sign of life, He was no longer a Ghost!
So I set off to Italy without delay,
following sightings from a TV programme to show me the way.
I came across a Franciscan monk who’d seen him 2 weeks before,
and his description confirmed this could only be Thomas Moore,
With the sun in my face and the wind at my back,
With little money in my pocket or in my bank,
Surviving on miracles along the way
that I will thank him for when I see him one day.
And all the births and all the deaths since he’s been away,
that I will share with him when I see him one day
But most of all I want to hear his story -
did he find the higher power? did he taste the glory?,
Did he fulfil his quest, or has he still got more to go,
or does he just need a rest.
Searching for Tom is like searching for the holy grail,
It’s a mystical operation with a mystical trail,
I see homeless people in the street and wonder if they are on the same journey
Are they at the beginning, the middle or the end - and will they ever see their family again?
There is nothing as exciting as a potential citing, but after a while you get used to the buzz,
Its not such a big deal it not such a rush.
They held a memorial for him but I refused to grieve, he is still alive that is what I believe.