What do you call a man who has found a great treasure
and then left it in a ditch
to a catch a lift
when it didn’t fit in the backseat?
Do you call him
Or do you simply call him lost
as he hitchhikes across his life,
driven forward by chance to an unknown fate,
soothed by carefree platitudes;
you know, ‘not all who wander…’
What is this but a cosmic tragedy!
Taught to lose himself in self,
eyes darkened and futile,
blind to the limitations
of humanity’s progress
I came to seek and save the lost.
Yes, and you are more than able.
As I watch many such men ride by, hair in the wind,
I do not regret the weight of the treasure.
It is, in fact, quite light!
Only too bulky to permit collecting
souvenirs along the way
If only they could see how You walk next to me,
Shouldering the weight
as we go along.
But I fear my silhouette obscures Yours,
and they speed by so fast…
Come, friends, and linger with me!
See for yourself what I so gladly carry,
the surpassing value
the shining loveliness
the eternal vastness,
meet the One able to make every journey worthwhile.
© 2019 Jacqueline Tisthammer. All Rights Reserved.