The Long View of The Ancients

I can feel wanderlust tugging at me, a desire to tread ancient trails, old mountains, and long valleys.  My father was a rolling stone and moss rarely clings to my back.  Age has increased this longing and gratefully allied it with quiet long looks.  A good view is satisfying, my dim eyes resting longer to the horizon, what lies beyond dreamed of.  Wanderlust is truly only satisfying with a warm lover, warm in all ways, warm to my cold side, warm to my longing heart, warm to my need for Christ, warm to my old bones, get my legs under me, to give a few more strides around the bend…warm at the walks end. Wanderlust must be accompanied with a warm wanderlover.