The Path

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


A son of the dirt since my birth,

I look back without rancor or mirth,

And — I remember.


Polished words did not pass my lips,

Nor fine clothes touch my fingertips,

And — I remember.


Without inheritance in the land,

Through struggles and hunger, I grew into a man,

And  — I remember.


Beaten but never bowed,

In the School of Hard Knocks I was endowed,

And — I remember.


Wealth and power were never my goal.

I wanted water for thirst, food for my soul,

And — it happened.


No longer hungry or thirsty, I’m fed and gird.

I’m finding the answers, written in the Word,

And — I won’t forget.


I’ve found the path that’ll take me home,

And I’ll go in peace, remembering,

As I say, “Shalom!”


About wfosterwelborn

I was born in a small town in southern Mississippi, but I have traveled the world and completed a career in the U.S. Air Force. I am always exploring and learning new things. From the time I was a young man, I always had the desire to write. With my writing, I want the reader to know that I wish to light a candle in the darkness and hopefully enable others to enjoy life more.

Posted on September 20, 2013, in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. I am happy that your poem found its way onto my post links. I like it! Thank you sir! Have a great read. I’ll be sure to read more. Of your works.


  2. constantly i used to read smaller articles or reviews that also clear their motive, and that is also happening with this article which
    I am reading at this time.


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