Traveler

We've spoken of the wanderlust,

the lives we lead, the dust to dust.

Let's visit the traveler and his quilted coat,

his journal and the things he wrote.

Where did the inspiration come?

Where travelers hitch a hiker's thumb.

The far shore beckons and the way is fast.

Is a true one's love dreams of the past?

Count me in when debts are settled,

and matters of our lives unmeddled.

Count me in when prizes given

and from the snow the dirt is driven.

We've lumbered through it all 'til now,

the hills the valleys, the budding bough.

Clamp your teeth down strong and tight.

Some thoughts are sure to live the night.