The Wanderer

Destitute of spirit, he wandered,
back to a simpler day of hope and promise.
He hated what had become of
visions and dreams, now broken shards.

Of course, he had witnessed this cycle before,
the lonely weakness of the psyche,
seeing the mislead religious,
each wanting the other to be like them,

feeling sadness and pain if the other doesn't;
as if God wanted people in duplicate. ..

Looking back to a day when seeds were planted,
when genuine leaders walked the earth,

he moved his mind back to the time of Jesus;
white robed followers listened in earnest
to his simple truths with open minds.
Questions were asked and answers given

but all led back to one universal truth,
they were all equal in God's eye.
Jesus' answers resonated deeply within
the souls of all who witnessed,

love is the answer, and how to is the question.
He wandered farther and deeper into his mind,
affirming that the more righteous people became,
the farther from God and spirit they fell.

As religions grew powerful, the more corrupt
they became. God's word lost value
to the insidious politics of affiliation.
He shed tears for all of the mislead,

those believing that cryptic words in ancient texts
were more important than the inspiration.
He shed more for the greedy and malicious,
those finding impure purpose within the words.

He cried for the state of man, for it had
been here before, and probably would again. ..

Salty tears mixed with heady prayers
to the God of all, knowing that only in death,

will most truly understand love's meaning,
and what was missed in challenged lives.
Fine dust mingled with grimy road sweat,
worn sandals crossing another mile, another life.