I came across a man with his head buried in the sand
Asked if I could have the honor of setting him free
I already am, he replied sternly
I listened intently as he began to explain something even he didn’t understand
A beggar and a prophet once crossed paths he said
One had a smile on his face while the other was at war inside his head
The beggar asked the prophet if he could have a piece of bread
The prophet gave him some and went on with his day
Later that night he was robbed of everything he called his own
The next morning the prophet sat next to the beggar and began to pray
With all his wisdom and knowledge he, like the beggar, had no home
As the sun set on the horizon he asked if I understood
I told him that riddles were never something with which I was any good
He paused for a moment and lifted his head from the sand
Looked me in the eyes and began to cry
The beggar and the prophet are one in the same
One man at different times in his life
Can’t you see, he said, we have no control over what comes our way
That’s why I bury my head in the sand, it’s the only place to stay safe
Again, I asked if I could have the honor of setting him free
Directed his gaze out to the open sea
And told him that is where a man can truly be free
It wasn’t until the next day that I finally began to see
The man with his head buried in the sand
That man...was me