Three Wandering Men

     Here's a poem I wrote one day at about 2:00 in the morning.  It seems to be symbolic of some of the various struggles encountered throughout the journey of Life, and the hope of rising above them.
     I've always enjoyed writing in the middle of the night; I get to wake up the next day and see what on earth I wrote the night before, and see if it makes any sense.  Like these blog posts, for instance.

 

Three wandering men on the path of life

Look forth with earnest eyes.

Footsteps sure walk toward the light

Wherein lies Life's greatest prize.

The first man stumbles off the path

And in the dust he lays.

No longer does he trust the light,

So in the dust he stays.

A wayside flower with sweet breath

Whispers the promise of an easier prize

And thus the wandering man remains,

No longer lifting up his eyes.

The second man with determined heart

Walks boldly toward the light.

The burning flame that guides his way

With constancy burns bright.

A stone fells the noble man,

Extinguishing his flame.

His eyes once sure no longer see,

The darkness blights;

His aspect forever remains the same.

The third man, an eager youth

Continues toward the promised goal.

A lovely vision steals his heart,

Then leaves it as she continues on.

Thus, the young man's hope is gone,

The ray of light no longer shines  

To cheat the darkness in his soul.

Three wandering men in darkness lost

Lay where they fell, caring not the cost.

And yet, in their weary hearts a spark remains,

And that with earnest fervor longs to burst forth bright

And lead the blighted wandering men

Forevermore into the Light.