A wanderer,
Wandering alongside a cool autumn day,
Came upon a short, dusky man
Who also carried himself
With a hint of curiosity.

With bitterness of heart,
The man asked of the wanderer,
“From where did you come?
And to where did you depart?”
To which the wanderer replied,
“I came upon the stardust
First scattered through the skies,
And into the infinite cosmos,
Is where I present walk”

And the dim and dull brightness
Of a prideful look
Entered into the eyes of the small dark man.

“Do you flatter yourself?
Oh fallacious prophet?”

These words came
From his curling toes.

Then he said,
“How can you wander
With a destination?
And who would take pride
From being birthed by the dust?”

Long had this wanderer been wandering
And so he waited,
Patiently,
Till the vision of this man
Brought out his forlornness.

The wanderer began to speak,
“Oh brother,
Not one thing have I prophesied,
But yes,
I am a prophet,
And also a disciple
Of your inner prophet”

And the man’s eyebrows were raised.

“Kin are we,”
Continued the moony voice,
“Born from the Mother
Who birthed the stars above”

“And of my wanderings,
Lo, they are many to count.
Ever am I traversing around these cosmos
Yes,
To every where I roam,
But to no where do I go.”

These words grazed the mans soul,
But now he spoke from his knees,
“What have you seen,
Oh wise wanderer,
Hidden,
Within these sands of time,
What waters have you walked upon?
And what faces
Has your pure heart shown you?”

With quivers and qualms
Did he speak these words,
But ever equanimous
Remained the wanderer.

Finally he said,
“I have seen the dews
Of misty days
Clouding man’s vision.
But also have I seen the sun,
Radiant in its ways,
Part those confusing clouds”

“I have heard
The singing of the seasons,
Their sweet songs of praise,
Honoring Father Time”

“Secrets have I shared with wind,
And secrets has wind shared with me”

“Yea, I have drifted up the streams
And climbed the tallest mountains,
I have spoken to the trees,
Ageless in their wisdom.
And I have seen the sun
Rise a million times,
And may I remind you,
Troubled brother,
It shall rise again.”

The man was bending at the knees.

Continued the wanderer,
“To truth I have traveled
Both far and near,
Yet I behold
Naught,
Save but One Face
In all the places I go”

What happened next,
Made the Heaven’s sing.
For though the shallow mind
Of this murky man
Bickered even still,
His soul had found its wings,
To the Angels thrills.

And now,
Their souls confronted
And gazed with love struck grace,
Mesmerizing in their purple glows.

They left their fleeting temples
Meeting inbetween
Melting in embrace
Ascending through the sky
Swirling towards the gates
Of the Highest High.