Chance Meetings

I spied an old man along the way With a tattered cloak He called to me Where are you today? I looked upon him and smiled I am with Moondust Of soft glowings Of days that grow dim Of fires that glow and of journeys to know He offered to me Something precious to him A wooden staff and said…. Those who go in love, are always free Such beautiful wood Handsomely carved I did not understand the gift The writings upon it Nor understood What can I give? He replied You already did In small important ways Those who go in love, are always free I clasped his shoulder and shook his hand Looked into his eyes We will meet again In a far off land A man in his tattered cloak Smiled gently , and said his goodbyes