Wayfaring Stranger

I am a poor wayfaring stranger traveling through this world of woe. My name is lost in the breeze and my face is hidden by the clouds and rain. Yet there’s no sickness, no toil, or danger in that bright world to which I go. You will not hear my footsteps and you will not see my stride. You will know nothing of me as the Lord makes the way that will lead me home. I’m going there to see my father, for I surely have not seen him here. I’m going there to see my mother, for I still do not know of her. Dark clouds are sure to gather around me, but for the grace of God I shall secretly find shelter from them. I am a poor wayfaring stranger traveling through this world of woe, people and places that I do not know. If it is to be lost, I have lost it. If it is to be suffered, I have suffered it. If it is to be hard and steep, I have climbed it. If it is to be roamed, I have roamed it. I am a poor wayfaring stranger and I go towards a place in which I will no longer roam. For but a single soul, my love Olivia, I am alone in the wilderness and my traveling is noticed by none. A poor wayfaring stranger I am, and I am glad it has made me this man, for what is not noticed by humans is always noticed by the Creator and it is that attention that I crave.