" The Traveler " poem by Abigail Alexis~

There once was a lonely young traveler,
Who's holes in his pants matched his shirt,
His face was dry from the sun,
And his shoes were all filled with dirt.

But he sang to himself as he traveled,
Along the dusty long road,
For tough he was poor, he was happy,
And the smile on his dry lips showed.

He whistled a tune, when his mouth went dry,
His throat too sore to sing,
Still happiness pooled in his heart,
Like an ever clear crystal spring.

Miles he walked, as the day grew bright,
Following the sun to the west,
With his sack on his back, he traveled on,
Though young legs ached for rest,


The sun rose high, it was nearly noon,
So deciding to stop for a bit,
Under the shade of a banyan tree,
He took off his pack to sit.

The moment his burdens hit the dust,
An old woman stepped into sight,
So suddenly had she appeared,
She gave the young man a fright.

Her back was bent, her fingers too,
And her hair, like old moldy hay,
The scarf on her head, was mended and patched,
And bleached by the suns hot ray.

It was clear to the young man, she could do him no harm,
So he bent and touched her dry feet,
"Mother" he said, "From were have you come.
And with what fine pleasure we meet?"

"I have come a long way."
The old woman replied, "And I've even father ahead,
But shoes, I need, for these feet are bare,
And I've walked 'til the bottoms have bled.


The young man looked at the old woman's feet,
Then at his old ragged shoes,
Slipping them off, he placed them in front,
Of the elderly feet that were bruised.

"Mother" he said, "Take them in trade for the blessing I need for this day,
For I too have a long way to go, ahead,
And a prayer I will need for my way."

The old woman smiled, as she slipped on the shoes,
Then turning she hobbled away,
The young man watched, 'till her shadow was gone,
And burned by the heat of the day.

The traveler sighed, then barefoot he sat,
In the cool spot beneath the big tree,
He leaned on the trunk, took off his hat,
And sat the pack on his knee.

His young back hurt, his poor stomach growled,
So he loosened the strings of his sack,
Knowing little, was left inside,
But he needed now a snack.

As he looked, in his bag, his cracked hands shook,
He couldn't believe what he saw,
For what was held, inside his pack,
Filled him with great awe.


The young man rose, dropping his bag,
Stunned he stumbled back,
For gold and jewels, diamonds and coins,
Lined each stitch of his sack,

"What is this" the traveler yelled,
Wondering of this trick,
He kicked the bag, picked up a branch,
And hit it with the stick.

The tattered bag let lose it's load,
Jewels scattered around,
Golden coins glistened bright,
Sparkling from the ground.

Half in shock, the young man stood,
A kings wealth at his feet,
A child's laugh, sang the words
" With what fine pleasure we meet? "

There before him, dressed in white,
A stately woman smiled,
Though her braided hair was gray,
She looked as if a child.

Not single a patch or hole,
Yet the traveler knew her face,
His shoes were there, upon her feet,
Though looking out of place.

The young man stared, at the change,
For now she looked not weak,
She bowed her head, smiled again,
And then began to speak,

"A blessing asked, is a blessing received,
Now traveler, go on your way"
With many long years, life your life,
In happiness I pray"

She picked up the treasure, tide the bag tight,
And handed the young man the sack,
Turning around, she hobbled away,
Never looking back.

The traveler did live, for many long years,
With many blessings of life,
He built a house, started a school,
And made a young teacher his wife,

When his children would set, upon his knee,
were he had opened the sack,
He'd teach them of happiness held in your heart,
When you give, and don't dwell on lack.

"A blessing given, is a blessing received"
His children chimed in to say,
And inside our traveler, Smiled and laughed,
As the sun set down on the day.