The Trackless Path

They seek for their lost culture in the language,

In the fishing, the ricing, and the dance.

But they will not find it there.

It was always found 

In the need

That they had for one other.

That was what gave meaning to it all.

Lose the need and you lose the culture.

The gifts of God are multitudinous,

But the witness of God is the same

To the heart and soul of man.

And he who has experienced it

Knows it.

Lessons from Raymond, the homeless man 

Who helped prepare me for the road.

To view previous lessons, find my playlist entitled: Raymond Lessons.

Lesson 7: Tell them

If you are to receive the things you need,

You will need to let people know 

What you are about

So be authentic. 

It is how every needful thing will come.

Lessons from Raymond, the homeless man 

Who helped prepare me for the road.

To view previous lessons, find my playlist entitled: Raymond Lessons.

Lesson 6: Only Ask for What You Need

“Only ask for what you need.

Calculate how much gas you’ll need 

To get to the next town of any size.

And then ask for that amount.

If they give you more,

Give it away.

“This is how it comes to me,” he said.

And as if to punctuate this point,

A little later, he came out of the grocery store.

“Someone just gave me $35,” he said.

“Come in and I will buy you lunch.”

“Did you ask?” I said.

“No,” he said.

“Something like this happens every day,” he said.

And when we had eaten, 

He gave me seven dollars

And spent the rest on 

Cigarettes and alcohol

So that the $35 was spent.

And I don’t need cigarettes or alcohol,

But there are those who can use what I don’t need.

And I thought this sounds familiar - a life of daily faith.

Constantly letting go of all I do not need,

Trusting that more will come.

Lessons from Raymond, the homeless man 

Who helped prepare me for the road.

To view previous lessons, find my playlist entitled: Raymond Lessons.

Lesson 5 - Count on Miracles

“Let go of what you do not need,” he said.

“And go to the place you feel.

I have take my shoes off on one side of the bridge

Because they were falling off my feet,

Walked across the bridge

And found another pair waiting for me.

I have felt like going beneath a bridge

To find a woman there, drunk,

And delivering a baby.

Several times, I have gone to a place, not knowing why

To discover a person dying. I told them it was time to go

And they were gone within the hour.

It has happened enough times 

That I have begun to think of myself 

As a kind of angel of death.

Trust the voice that leads you from within

And you will be provided for,

You will be used

By the unseen hand.

The truth is that I'm a leather tramp

Because I'm broken to the grind.

I can't go back forever.

But by the grace of God

And the help of friends, there is some rubber

Turning down beneath my wheels

As I move down the highway,

And gas within my tank.

And I trust that it will be so

For as long as He sees fit, perhaps forever.

Wouldn't that be a miracle?!

But if it ever changes

And I am seen for what I am,

I won't complain. Did you know

That once He said that he wants the world

To see me how He sees me.

Perhaps that is why,

For I

Have found rich and unseen treasures.

My mind has seen things I struggle to describe.

But I will try. I will give the world 

The riches in my mind

If I am able.

Lessons from Raymond, the homeless man 

Who helped prepare me for the road.

To view previous lessons, find my playlist entitled: Raymond Lessons.

Lesson 4: Have lots of homes

Raymond says, “The guy at the thrift store says 

I can sleep under his awning.

And many people in this town have said 

That I can sleep on their porch.

I am the homeless guy 

Who everybody knows.”

And I think, what a mercy in the rain

To have a porch that you can sleep on.

But Raymond spreads it around.

He doesn’t stay too long.

And that seems right.

My home, too, is on the road.

And because I forsake a home

I will find many friends, many homes. 

But none too much, too long.

A day here, Two days there, maybe a week,

And then move on.

And what do I offer as payment, 

Except myself, a word, a conversation,

And a prayer for those who help me along the road.

These are lessons from Raymond, the homeless man I met

Who helped me prepare to live on the road.

To view previous lessons, find my playlist entitled: Raymond Lessons.

Lesson 3: Sleep Out in the Open

“Don’t sleep in some hole,” he said.

And he warned of tweakers.

And yet, he also said 

That after thirty years,

He had never had any trouble.

I decided to try “out in the open”

On my first night back on the road

Mostly because of the discomfort

Of trying to sleep in the car.

It was a pavilion in a park.

And the next night I tented,

And tented once again.

And then last night, back in the open.

“You want to be able to see people coming,” he said,

And you want to be able to be seen.”

That seems right, somehow.

But we’ll see.

Rolling hills with a tank full of gas

And no need to be anywhere 

Anytime soon.

These are lessons from Raymond, the homeless man

Who I met in Missouri, and who helped me 

When I was preparing to make my journey by foot.

If you are tuning in late and want to see previous lessons,

Find the playlist on my channel entitled: Raymond Lessons.

Lesson 2: Travel light

Raymond had no more than a backpack.

A hybrid kind, not a back-packers pack

Just slightly larger than a normal backpack,

But with straps.

And for that, it was half empty.

What was inside I am unsure, except he said

He had a bunch of empty little bottles

Cause he drank 100 proof all day.

And he slept on a thin baby blue blanket

Which he bunched up and sinched with a strap.

“If you have too much, they won’t give you a ride,” he said.

“Well, what about my dog,” I asked.

“Oh, that will help,” he said.

“They love that dog far more than they love you,” he said.

“But make sure you have water!” he said,

“For the dog,” that is,

“Lest they worry,

And believe that you’re abusing him.”

“Ok. I will,” I said.

And I thought, “you know, that’s right!”

“That’s just what I had in mind.”

And yet, now that I am on the road,

I have more than that. 

Not a whole lot more,

But I don’t think that’s the point.

The little pack represents what I really need.

It is a good image to keep in my mind all the time.”

It allows me to shed when I need to.

And why can I let go of all the rest?

Not because I am a survivalist,

But because I know

That if I need to go through a narrow place

With nothing more than me and my little pack,

That on the other side, there is an unseen providence

Awaiting my arrival to the next phase of God’s abundance.