All travellers need a map,
Though not all maps are made of paper;
Some who wander, wander inwardly,
And their map is of an inner parchment,
Unseen by their neighbour’s eyes.
But it exists, and such wanderers are not lost,
For they know their road truly.
Some need a map in another tongue,
And some need a map with symbols,
Others need a map that is complex,
And others yet need a simple one;
But all need their own map,
And the map is not what is mapped,
But a tool to travel it and find it.