I post the one poem that "spoke to me" here for two reasons; to keep it close as a reminder of my journeys and to share with other travelers along the road.
A Man
Once I met a man,
Traveling down the road,
He asked me for a hand
to remove his heavy load.
It was quite a weight
He carried in that sack,
It was he said hate
He had upon his back.
Why I questioned
Did he travel alone?
"No one will be my fried
And I have no home."
Hate is an odd thing to carry
For a frail old man,
It seems to make you weary
And blisters your hands.
"Young Man, I carry these belongings
So I won't forget,
The places I've been traveling
And faces I have met.
They give me gladly
All the hate they can,
And I take it sadly
For now I can barely stand.
Young Man, travel with me
For just a little while,
The end is close you see
Just a few more miles.
When it comes to pass
And I lay quite still,
Bury me as I ask
High upon a hill.
Don't open that evil sack
And let the hatred free,
Place it on my back
And bury it with me."
Once I met a man,
Traveling down the road,
He asked me for a hand
to remove his heavy load.
It was quite a weight
He carried in that sack,
It was he said hate
He had upon his back.
Why I questioned
Did he travel alone?
"No one will be my fried
And I have no home."
Hate is an odd thing to carry
For a frail old man,
It seems to make you weary
And blisters your hands.
"Young Man, I carry these belongings
So I won't forget,
The places I've been traveling
And faces I have met.
They give me gladly
All the hate they can,
And I take it sadly
For now I can barely stand.
Young Man, travel with me
For just a little while,
The end is close you see
Just a few more miles.
When it comes to pass
And I lay quite still,
Bury me as I ask
High upon a hill.
Don't open that evil sack
And let the hatred free,
Place it on my back
And bury it with me."
Book Title: "Along The Way"
Author: James McNutt
1972
