In preparation to leave –
again.
We travel from place to place,
our lives always seem to be reclaiming new ground
to call home.
In transit; we are transitory.
Living a life of constant change,
we are like nomads
moving to new place where we can be fed,
where we can tend the land of our Father.
We are wanderers,
displaced by choice to pack our bags
day after day,
to leave behind everything we once knew,
leaving behind even ourselves,
for the sake of a carpenter,
a shepherd,
a light to the world,
a man who centuries ago
walked a path like the one that is now my own.
The adventure of a lifetime;
a love story that spans centuries
that we write with every step we take
How fitting it is that these months
are spent in transit,
when this life is but a pretense of the life to come,
we are but passing shadows
living daily on bought time.
