following now on the traveler's path,
watching as he kicks the sand
wondering where did it all stem
as he walks he starts to understand
this road was where it began
he knows his feet will carry and his legs will follow
walks through clouds of weep and wallow
his quest will follow the plan

the journey never ends
only hurts and then it mends
ever none and ever more
but still, he journeys to the door

winds gale over hill, sand blows underfoot,
prints behind are swept away
miles and miles ahead and behind
no care to notice the way
endless thoughts with nothing to say
like having the x but missing the map
like having the paper but nowhere to crap
scoring without knowing the play

the journey never ends
only hurts and then it mends
never knowing what's in store
but still, he journeys to the door

and times when the night has settled
when the moon has taken his throne
while the wolves and coyotes howl in praise
the traveler stops to get stoned
sits atop of all he owns
packs his pipe hops back into the night
hunting snipe though without fright
and on and on he drones

the journey never ends
only hurts and then it mends
always observing only wanting more,
but still. he journeys to the door

Jesse Sichkaryk