Up ahead in the distance one lone figure walks ahead of me,
Road weary and tired, from behind his nondescriptness speaks volumes,
I can't help but wonder, from his vantage point what more can he see?
He must know more than I, what he truly knows one as I assumes,

I walk on and on, slowly, imperceptibly gaining on him,
What great stories will he be able to tell me, what will he share?
Nervous I close the distance, mysterious his synonym,
Up close he looks not special, but, what he's seen is beyond compare,

Just before I've nerve enough to tap his shoulder, the last piece falls,
Recognition snaps, I know who it is who seemed so much more wise,
I pass the man, we nod, and I go on toward the e'er distant calls,
I no longer yearn to learn what wisdom has passed before his eyes,

Leaving him behind me I climb on, leaving the man to his stroll,
His smile in passing lingers, warms my yearning for new sights to see,
Though he'd seen a lot I need not his tally to add to my roll,
What he'd seen, I'd seen, for that plain and humble man I'd passed was me.

tags: poetry  

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