Sometimes we are walking down the road
Chatting and discussing the news of late
Minding ourselves when we meet a fellow
Who is traveling in the same direction
Clearly a visitor, he's so awfully out of date
But we walk and talk and bring Him up to speed
He talks to us in words both sacred and profane
Words that harken to our spirits' unity
And speak to our hearts individually
Our hearts burn deep within us
Like an age old song or ancient melody
Something foreign, but pleasantly familiar
What it is, I can't quite recall
Finally, we arrive at our destination
The sun is low and the day is growing old
Our companion makes to keep travelling
"Where are you going? It's late.
Please stay and join us at table".
During the meal He takes the bread
Blesses it and says a prayer
Our eyes are opened, but He isn't there
"That man had to have been our Jesus!
As He spoke, were not our hearts burning?
And when He sat at table, were not our souls yearning?
We clung to His words like dying men
And the awakening when He said Amen!"
But we had been blind to his presence before us
He was there while we were thinking "poor us"
Looking right at Him, still we could not see
Our friend who died upon the hill of Calvary
Open the eyes of our hearts and may we be of one accord
To recognize that, on the road, we were walking with the Lord