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The Journey
A cold winter wind blows against my back
As I huddle over a small charcoal fire
Vehicles hurry past, headed to their destinations
While I wonder where mine is
Lights from a big city reflect off the clouds
But this old Coleman lamp is my only light
Hills rise in silhouette around me
Silently watching,
Bearing mute witness to my pain
Crickets sing me a lullaby
And fish splash to keep me company
Some bird cries in protest at being awakened
and the sliver of moon casts silver shadows around
I think of my sons, so far away
And hope they are happy tonight
But as for me, the cold wind blowing down my neck
Seems to echo a bleakness in my soul
And tonight, like every night, I wonder
if the rising of the sun will warm my spirit
Or will I be alone on this journey.
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John Cantrell of Cantrell and Son's Creative Services
North Royalton, OH
Copyright © Cantrell and Son's Creative Services. All Rights Reserved.
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