Today’s Poem has resulted in passing beyond my usual format for a Poem structure as it were. Line length and syllable count will be far beyond my usual, BUT I believe is running where a Poem leads and moving to that line for the poem to have the full effect I believe it can have. This is exactly how it is for today’s Poem, Which I am more than happy with this Poem and it carries a message that should shine from here.

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Epigraph:
“In the season made to honour Him,
the One who is Love walks unnoticed through the snow,
for not all who wander are lost;
some wander seeking hearts that have forgotten Him.”

Note

This poem is a reflection on the quiet, often unnoticed presence of Love in the world, a Love that walks among us even when it is ignored or misunderstood. The figure of the man represents that enduring force: faithful, patient, and ever hopeful that humanity will one day remember, recognize, and walk alongside it. It is both a lament and an invitation: to see, to follow, and to embody Love in our own lives.

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This is not the best image for this Poem But it has to work for this one as the Poem is enough for this topic. . All thanks go to AI and its attempt to provide the image I asked for. Thus credit goes there

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He Walks Unfollowed




On crunching crude crumbs underfoot, alone at dusk he walks,
While silence slices sharply like the cold north wind that talks;
It tells its chilled, unfinished tales of Love long lost above,
For Seasons, sold to silvered days, forgot their Love.



Shocked, shorn, yet softly shining, still Love steadfastly persists,
Though pressed as pale, forgotten lines on mankind’s crumpled lists,
Now buried, brushed beneath the blaze of hungered hearts’ desire,
He walks in worn and weary shoes that once strode brighter fire.



Through worlds where withered words lie, locked in ice-bound, faithless dreams,
For man mislaid the fragile leaves of Love, or so it seems;
Yet still he stirs through scattered leaves once kindled by Love’s flame,
Bent, but bearing Sunday’s best, though stripped of earthly aim.



Alone, yet always anchored, still his Faith begins to rise,
For Love, though left and listless, never truly fades or dies;
He sits, a soul surrendered to the Love beyond the season,
Heart hurting that mankind made Love a momentary reason.



He watches wistful windows where warm hearth-fires glow,
While crowds chase crystal comforts in the fleeting festive snow;
Yet none note how His humble hands still heal, still help, still give,
For Love walks where the weary ones remember how to live.



Through trembling tender twilight, softly still He journeys on,
A lantern lifting longing toward and beyond the dawn;
For though He wanders wounded by the coldness of mankind,
He guards the gentle hope that lost-born, Love they’ll yet re-find.



And so through shadowed seasons still, His steady footsteps fall,
For Love moves on with mercy, offering grace to great and small;
And when the world grows weary of the cold it chose to roam,
Love waits, unwarned, unwelcome, yet still leading us home.







Copyright © 2025 Pat Fitzgerald 
All Rights Reserved

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ENDING THOUGHTS:

Thank you for following me on my little journey, that is composing or writing poetry. If Life is a journey which we all walk on and my journey in creating Poetry is a journey of it’s own. Which I still learn much on as I write.

At times I experiment on methods or way how I can improve my poetry, therefore getting feed back is always most welcome for such as these.

When I write poetry, some readers may be offended with something within the poetry. I do not write to offend, But such are written for reasons I outline in the posts. Often I miss typos and mistakes when publishing each poem. I correct the moment I discover such mistakes.

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