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.