Tag: Travel

  • Double-Feature Intro

    Sometimes the world feels too heavy to bear, and the soul begins to dream of places it has never touched. Two paths emerge—one of quiet surrender, the other of yearning flight. These pieces explore that journey: the weight of what we leave behind, and the promise of somewhere beyond the horizon.


    Figure standing on a tropical shore at sunset, gazing toward distant islands, representing longing and the desire to escape.
    Longing for distant shores, finding peace beyond what I’ve known.

    Escape Route
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I want to step off this soil,
    feel its weight fade from my bones,
    like a chain I never asked for,
    a history I never owned.

    I long for skies not heavy with judgment,
    for oceans that don’t pull me under,
    to breathe air not tainted with promises
    that leave the soul shattered,
    like glass beneath tired feet.

    I would trade the land of endless noise,
    the echoes of hollow dreams,
    for silence—
    for the quiet of somewhere far,
    where the world doesn’t scream
    but whispers,
    and I can finally exhale.

    Somewhere else,
    where home isn’t built on brokenness,
    where freedom isn’t borrowed
    but earned.


    Tropical Longing
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I wake up each day,
    mind focused on the journey ahead—
    I’m putting plans in motion,
    to cross oceans,
    to leave behind this land of plenty,
    where many have none.
    I long for the land
    of white sand beaches and palm trees,
    I long for a tropical sun.

    Life upon a different shore,
    it’s calling me.
    And I think about it longingly.
    Get me out of here,
    get me to where my heart feels at peace.
    Instead of here,
    where I feel like I’m pulling myself in two,
    stretched thin between what is and what could be—
    like waves crashing against jagged rocks,
    each one breaking off a piece of me.

    The Philippines—
    a dream painted in shades of emerald and gold,
    the promise of solace in the whisper of the sea.
    But here, the air is heavy,
    clouds hang low with burdens of the past,
    while I yearn for a sky unshackled,
    where the horizon stretches far beyond
    the limits of what I know.

    Palm trees sway like dancers,
    and the sun burns bright,
    calling me to walk barefoot,
    where my soul can feel the sand,
    and my heart can finally breathe.
    But for now,
    I’m tethered to this place,
    this world where the weight is felt
    with every step I take.

    Still, I hold onto the dream,
    the image of an island beyond the mist—
    where peace resides,
    and I can shed the pull of this dual life,
    and rest beneath the warmth of the tropical sky.


    Double-Feature Outro

    And so we leave, if only in words—for a moment, we escape the weight of the world. We walk toward distant shores, toward air untainted and skies unbound, carrying pieces of ourselves we thought were lost. Between the tethered and the free, we find the space to breathe, to dream, to simply be.


    Looking for more of my poetry? The Library of Ashes

  • “I have always been captivated by the lives and languages of people far from my own. This piece is a reflection on curiosity, respect, and the love I carry for cultures I have yet to touch.”


    A dreamlike collage of Asian cityscapes with multilingual characters representing Mandarin, Cantonese, Tagalog, Korean, Japanese, and German.
    Listening to the world in every language, feeling the pulse of life in every culture. – Rowan Evans

    I have always been drawn to the world outside myself… to the rhythms of languages I do not speak, to streets I have never walked, to skies I have yet to stand beneath. There is a life in language, a heartbeat in culture, and I listen as closely as I can.

    Even when I cannot understand the words, I hear the cadence, the rise and fall, the hidden music that belongs to a place and its people. Mandarin or Cantonese, Tagalog or Korean, Japanese or German—they each carry a soul in their tones, a story in their syllables. I notice when the smallest detail shifts, when a rhythm is off, when a sound is not quite what it should be. Some call it obsession; I call it devotion.

    The written form sings to me as well. Korean curves in gentle arcs, Chinese strikes with sharp certainty, Japanese flows in graceful ribbons. To many, they appear alike, but I hear the difference, see the rhythm, sense the pulse of lives folded into every character, every stroke. Each line holds a story, a heartbeat, a culture speaking without sound.

    I am fascinated not by the exotic alone, but by the living pulse of life everywhere. In Japan, the careful balance of history and neon. In Seoul, the energy that hums beneath every crowded street. In Manila, the warmth and chaos intertwined, unashamed and alive. These are not places I have touched, yet I feel them as vividly as I feel the echo of my own heartbeat.

    I do not want to consume. I want to witness. I want to understand. I want to walk with reverence, to listen with attention, to respect the lives unfolding around me, and to see what is beautiful without taking it for my own. Language, culture, custom—these are windows into the souls of people, and I am endlessly curious.

    Even in dreams, I travel, carrying notebooks, pens, a hunger for connection. I meet people, learn their words, share their moments, and leave a piece of myself behind in the care with which I have observed.

    This is how I show love to the world I do not yet fully know. Through attention, through curiosity, through presence. And perhaps, one day, when my feet touch those streets, I will not only observe, but belong in some way, however fleeting.

    Until then, I will listen. I will watch. I will learn.


    Drifting Without Roots: A Poem on Cultural Identity and Longing
    A confessional poem exploring envy of cultural heritage, the ache of disconnection, and the search for belonging in a fractured identity.