The Walking Stick!

There lies a different imagination.

Not the usual kind you see.

In the woods and mountains,

of joy and glee.

The first foot of commitment

the breath of fulfillment,

Ignoring the tasks that life enforces,

of mundane courses.

Why do you walk, people ask?

I reply, why do you tread? 

In hope of a better life? 

Or just to earn your bread?

Man is not gifted with wings to fly, I ponder

for the sky is not where we are

I am a land soldier,

who knows no reason to wander.

I carry my walking stick, for I'll need it when i am old.

For the balance, the do's and don't,

The chromatic life it holds.

Onto this life's vacillating roads,

walk with whatever little you can hold.

as never again will you find everlasting bliss,

look back, and say did i miss?

Ah but Man, it's not for you to feel,

what is imaginary and what is real.

for you need to belong to that fraternity,

where few last for moments and many for eternity.

And when you wonder where I am gone,

That's when it dawns on you, Man is never alone.

For I walk, till the roads surrender.

Fender bender. I render.

One step at a time, repeat over and over, 

For I just lose myself in the wild to discover!

-V!K$