The pavement hard beneath the feet,
Thoughts upon the air,
The frantic mind in hot pursuit,
Where search for meaning — where?
From busy street to copied street,
The leathered sole is sore;
No step without direction is sweet,
But aimless walking’s a chore.
The only variation is pace,
With progress fast or slow —
Outside of Christ and far from grace,
It matters not where I go.