The Sage on a bicycle

The wise white haired Sage,
In white robes and with a white beard flowing,
Riding a bicycle down the hill,
On to the mountaintop he is going.

His experience infinite, his wisdom so vast,
He rides through the forests, through valley and pass,
His journey beneath the stars, brings him joy and peace,
As he takes in the sights, nature’s beauty never cease.

Though the road ahead might be daunting and tough,
His white robes blowing in the wind are a beautiful puff,
With determination and hope he’ll stay on the right path,
On his noble steed, pedalling ever so fast.

The wise old Sage with a creased brow,
Riding his bicycle at the beach and in town,
Ignoring the chaos and the many people that’s around,
He looks for respite from the chaos, the peace he has found.

He guides his two-wheeled steed with a grace and care,
Swiftly and steady, so nobody takes despair,
Amidst cries of joy and laughter of the children that play,
The sage continues on his way, as if nothing could delay.

The sun setting in the horizon and the sand fading to night,
He still rides, steady, never leaving the bike’s sight,
Crowds of enchanted people clear the way,
What a perfect end to a beautiful day.