The Sidewalk Philosopher

I met him at a crossroad
He was a simple man
Humble and plain
A working man
His hands were calloused
His beard untamed
When he spoke he used simple words
But his concepts were anything but
His truths were delivered through deeply contemplated stories
And from unfathomable wells of experience
I found myself excitedly anticipating his next fragment of wisdom
I wanted to string them into a necklace I could carry with me
And reflect upon
He didn't think himself wise but he was
He couldn't see himself the way I could
He couldn't hear how his unassuming words danced and sang
like the music of windchimes
A masterpiece created in the moment
Rare and beautiful 
And so briefly born into the world
That if you didn't pay attention you would miss it all
Whenever I visited those crossroads I looked for him
And when he was there I'd sit at his feet and just listen
Letting his stories and experience wash over me and fill my cup
With his own unique brew to wake up my soul
Awakening a new perspective on my own experiences
And I took it all in with more gratitude than he'd ever know
-gws