A weary traveler

Traveling on this road
between that place back there and somewhere
I found myself more reminiscent
than usual

I'm normally not one to revisit past memories
or to be fond of their recollection
usually the past perturbs me

but a weary traveler gains wisdom
along the trail
to where he is going

and the thought of a fond memory wasn't quite so foreign
any longer
and that road to wherever
forced me to linger
and think about the possibilities of yesterday

Boxed in by white lines
what kind of prison had I found myself in
A traveler should have the right to take any path he wishes
but here I was confined by modern ingenuity

The highway to hell they call it
What else matters when you're trying to reach a means to an end
as quickly as you can

A man trudging his way through the old country
would not so much as glance down a wide road
his nudity and open perspective would compel him to seek a more private adventure
down a path that seemed more or less virginal
with more to look at than bogged down trails where every man before him has been

When riding by carriage a man has not the time to look at his surroundings
not the time to pause and taste the dew in the air
But a man that's trudging his way across the country side has not but time

He has the capacity to be late to nowhere
and miss the meeting in town with no one
has the ability to sit on his ass gaily
and bathe in the sunlight
taste grass
and trample daisies

He can be lost and know exactly where he stands
He can go the whole day without as much as a fawn to talk to

but eventually the suns begins to set
and the afternoon breeze turns into an evening wind

The traveler can become weary on his quest to find shelter for the night
his gay expedition into the woods leaves him stumbling to find his way back
to a road leading him somewhere

The man on a carriage might have to change his axle stuck in a rut
might have to stop and trade with a passerby or deal with a group of bandits
but at the end of this wide road he has found the town he knows and loves
he remembers the last mile like he rode it just yesterday

and when the sun sets on him, he finds a warm cottage
with a hot meal and a loving family who cant wait to get their arms around him
a blazing fire and a cozy recliner to relax in after a long days work
he can sit, fat and contented as he drifts off to sleep

but a weary traveler has none of these luxuries
he has chosen exemption over shelter
and nude enterprises over a warm bed

Even though this highway is monotonous
and gives me no view of anything at all
it leads me to everything
a man craves and desires
and needs

and that is a means to an end that I can live with