Come, weary wanderer
Take my hand
I will show you a path
And tell you a story
Of the true meaning
Of your journey

Picture a beach
Calm, deserted
You see no other being
Besides the phantom
At your side
I am that phantom
Slowly, I speak:
Life has been compared
To a journey
But I say
It is a walk
Along the beach
You avoid the soft spots
And walk on the firm ground
You leave footprints
Some deep,
Some faint
But they are washed away
By the waves
And sometimes,
When the going
Is hardest
You leave
The most lasting impression
Looking ahead,
Can you see
The footprints of the wanderers
Before you?
Looking back,
Can you see
The footprints of those
Behind you?
You can
You must
Leave a legacy
Now, can you walk
More carefully?
More steadily?
Listen, my friend
And take advice
From a departed traveler
Who did not learn
During their time
And is only destined
To warn the voyagers
Of today
Listen, and heed . . .

Slowly, my friend
We wander down the pier
To see the water rise and ebb
The clouds come and go
As the final high tide rises
Upon the journey of your life
And now, did you heed my warning?
Can I still see your footprints?