just walking alone at this moment with no one to meet and greet down the dusty trail less traveled
listening to the song of the lark and thinking of tares and
golden wheat – carrying bundles and loads of labor working
and waiting for victory and not defeat. scattering seed among
rocks and thistle thorns – upon fallow fields as yet to be
adorned. making pilgrim’s progress at sunrise, sunset and the
gloaming of the day – looking for the gleanings of tomorrow and the Harvest as
we continue going on the Way.
walley