I wave hello.
Wave to the man walking down the road.
I wave to him and I head home.
It is unlikely that I’ll see him again,
I do not know him,
I know nothing of the path he walks,
Though he follows a path we all somehow know.
The Path of Man,
He strolls along the path written out
Through time’s flowing sand,
Through ticking clocks and shadows on land
Cast by strangers walking night and day,
Prints of boots endlessly lay
Down the endless Path of Man.
Searching, sifting through that sand,
Looking to settle down, to find a home.
Maybe have a family or two.
Waiting for peace, waiting for rest.
Waiting to detatch from the Path of Man.