When I Met Whitman

We didn't recognize each other at first It takes a while before the knowing Settles in And makes itself comfortable But something in the words That passed between us Made us realize who we were Brothers on the same journey We felt the wounds of the world Wrapped in the insufficient bandages Of so many blood-stained conflicts When differences refuse to be bridged With love When we shook hands—Whitman and I We made our worlds a better place At least there were two of us now Who understood And so, good stranger, if you see Whitman Walking down the road And he seems a little odd, a little weird Don't judge him too harshly Before you get a chance to really hear What he has to say The truth beneath the surface of the Illusion The dream that awakens in the opening Of one's heart. ~ Laurence Overmire