The Wisdom of the Road and the Wind

The distance we travel is not always measured in miles.

Before and after should be the same:
You will be here when I leave, as you were when I came
To your side looking for a path back to myself.

We talked, and as I listened
To your gravelly voice, your dusty face glistened
Here and there with pools of the passed.

You didn’t know me, but welcomed the comp'ny.
Some days I talked; but silent miles, hot and empty,
Forged the bond that let you teach me how to heal again.

You brought me home, but others need you
To murmur them truth from the ground up, too,
And my footprints against your wisdom would only get in the way.