I’m a poor unaccompanied man travelling through time

My feet and hands have felt this scourge of pain called life

Tasted the wines of Jesus words, the perfume of Rumi , been dressed by Buddha’s jewells and scoured clean of my moral beginnings

I have sat with holy ones in dreams and seen the secret beauty behind the veil

I have sat in soup kitchens and broken bread with sadhus by a holy mountain

Yet I grieve for this spiritual desert this world has now become

Oh where are the seekers of the Way ,I must find the great river before I die.