The Wanderer

Photo by S.M.E.

I left the Lord at the edge of my folly

And walked until hope wasted away;

Drifting by those sadly familiar places,
Among the weathered and tethered faces,

Seeking a path to freedom

And coveting a life
No common man could give,

I fought to live

Among the nomads, the wearied souls;
Bleary-eyed and beaten,

I sought a rare gold,

And, made cold by the search,
I turned around to see that

God was exactly where
I left Him waiting for me.

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