[Poem] The Cartographer's Heart

Through winding paths and tangled woods I roam,
A map unfolds, a path yet to be known.
The compass spins, the needle seeks its north,
But in this journey, true direction's worth

Lies not in lines upon a weathered page,
But in the whispers of a turning age.
The rustle of leaves, a whispered song of rain,
These guide my steps, through sun and shifting terrain.

I search not for a treasure, marked with gold,
But for the stories yet to be unrolled.
In every stranger's face, a world unseen,
In every sunrise, a landscape evergreen.

For in the seeking, the heart expands its frame,
The map unfolds, with understanding's flame.