"The Journeyman"

 

You brought me a mirror that walks with my feet.

Reflections meet my conscience sweet wherever

My silver cord travels in this land of the living.

I wander beat streets in search of milestone’s dawn.

My milieu’s days will live with hope of Eden’s morns.

Silently I hear my heart pray to master rhythms.

Can I drop into a solution to clean me from these spots?

I’m an island of faults – fortunes are not so hot.

Search for riches – not money – it’s poor tracing paper.

Each tomorrow is promised until I die – live no lie.

Flowers are power plants I dig – clean dirt grows.

Spare the cameras – simple mirror takes pictures of me.

I love Mother Nature – let me be at home in sheltered deeds.

Bees use nectar for mouthwash – butterflies stay in

Powder rooms – their beauty races in colors.

Make me a workhorse – sense-of-humor – without tumors.

Endurance is a bear with it given biceps of thoughts.

Hope may be a driver who deflects to the passenger side.

Because of you my survival ponders – no dead end wonders.

I get drowsy – in the earwax museum I dare not

Sleep; I live inside a safe like the palm of your hand.

I look at my steps as my feet walk away from me.

Yet like a revolving door I keep turning more to you.

I’m but a spirit yet my sins cause flesh wounds.

No human companionship is the tonic for my lone soul.

My body is a temple – you friendship attends service.

A candle is light at both ends – heal my sick wick.

I falter alter, I win and lose, make me a wiser journeyman.

Life is precious – I think of memories – some long ago.

A joy came over me: I would not change for many a joy I know.

 

 By James Wesley Ford