Pilgrim 13 – Alvin Lowrie

I’m Merry Old Mr. Man Traveler,
paying toll for all that I’ve seen.
Searching the skyline for passage,
through the only way I can be.
I’m taught reading lines in the waters,
and pages concealed in stone.
I’m Merry Old Mr. Man Traveler,
love is kindred, yet we’re each alone.
I shelter neath the foliage of wisdom,
grasp its roots along life’s raging stream.
I cling till I’m lost in the detail,
yet I’m swept by the currents of man.
Yes, I’m Merry Old Mr. Man Traveler,
a pilgrim of sorts taking flight.
Eluding my thoughts, seeking refuge,
till the end of this promise at night.