A Wandering Man
Indignant the words of one’s salvation, consumed by the solitude within
Here in the bowels of our existence, and the inspiration of its moral servitude.
For we feel the collapse of the spirit, when mystery is all around us
Holding tight the passage of our simple lives;
But yet we realize the conviction of our values
As we wait for a wandering man
Banish all from their structure for questions have no answers
And the light of a moonbeam is lost here in a star studded night;
Come closer and feel the heart, like angels in the hand of god
Bound to the isolation that is tomorrow!
For I see who remains in this place
Waiting for a wandering man
A spirit retaining its own belief and ponders a quiet life
Warmed by the makeup of the world around him and touched by solitude within;
Shadows fade to darkness as the eve of night approaches
Holding the swiftness of season’s passage;
But the strength of that feeling shall be imagined
As we wait for a wandering man
Copyright © Mark Norton | Year Posted 2016
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