Not all who wander are lost

Not all who wander are lost-
Heard the note, once-
And sat back,
Pondering.

The pretense of wisdom,
And knowledge-
Strained, it falls short
When it matters most,
In all essentiality.
And thwarted-
In self worth,
It gains rust-
Distasteful.

The ignorance urges-
To budge.
Despite the lack of clarity,
Of senses, the random path
Allures-
Gathering no moss,
The pebble rolls,
Oblivious
Of a cliff-
Or a dead end.

Yet, the soul wanders-
Straying out,
Into the open-
A quest.

And I wonder, does the soul culminate
In lost tears-
Or does the wandering soul bleed joy,
Replete?