Lone, The weary man walked his shadow home,
A journey own, miles to go, galaxies galore,
Beneath the searing sun and sky blue bold,
Rays foretold his fate, crimson brow furrowed,
As thirst adrift bade on parched lips cold,
A Tree’s shade willed and the feet on parole stilled.
Hearken his heart beat, hymns solemn and stately wild,
Memories prayed, flitted with the sunlit leaves,
Ballads pranced haste, swan-songs fond and bare,
As the accordion voices rose, the mind meandered,
A melody in spate, held by wasted truths to truce,
The dreams deluge then, of ballads born and reborn.
The chapel chimed, the sundown missive as the dusk dulled,
The nightingale rhymed, no reason as the breezed lulled,
Shadows and stars in silent gaze, the man arose swelled,
Soul-bound, the Journey Home, The Journey Within.