Walking Poem by James McLain

Walking; I look ahead to where need we be.
ever being closer,
when you, with walking, it seems now nearer.
When the wind comes to me smelling you in it;
my pace slows, so I cannot miss your leaving.

Who gave us this way, just to show us another,
without thought too this path, other than this one.
How we were never here, and being there...
we traveled on....as the wind sits still and waits,
for you to come......