i’ll walk into your forests
and in the shadows of your mind
i’ll walk along these winding paths
to see what i might find
i’ll walk when i am tired
and when my feet are light
and i walk beyond these city streets
and out into the night
i’ll walk when i am high
and when i’m feeling low
and i’ll walk out on your prairies
to feel the winds of change blow
and i’ll walk to feel the music
i see dancing in your eyes
and i’ll walk along these open roads
underneath uncertain skies
and i’ll walk into the garden
where the seeds of love are sown
and i’ll walk when you’re holding my hand
and i’ll walk when i’m alone
and i’ll walk when i am hungry
and when my shoes are worn
and i’ll walk into the quiet
and i’ll walk into the storm
and i’ll walk with the rich
and i’ll walk with the poor
and i’ll walk into your house
and i’ll walk across your floor
and i’ll walk beyond your boundaries
and the paintings in your halls
and i’ll walk beyond your borders
and i’ll walk beyond your walls
and i’ll walk with your lies
then i’ll walk out of my skin
and i’ll walk with a different color on
to look in your eyes again
and i’ll walk behind these signs
and i’ll walk across your land
and i’ll walk with you
whether you’re a woman or a man
and i’ll walk with joy
and i’ll walk with death
and i’ll walk into the darkness
to feel your breath
and i’ll walk with pain
and i’ll walk out in the cold
and i’ll walk to hear these children laugh
and i’ll walk until i’m old
and i’ll walk with trouble
when the hour’s getting late
but i will not walk with fear
and i will not walk with hate
and i’ll walk with hope
until my soles are thin
then i’ll walk out of this world
and i’ll crawl back in
Greg Alston is a gardener, cook, father and some other things, too.
