Kings reside in swank abodes surrounded by food; they travel roads smoothed out and easy. Watchmen keep guard on their comfort as they sleep. Shepherds have to force their way among the stones and briers. They sleep tired and hungry to the howl of wolves nearby, in weather foul.
They pass each other by as men who have no common bond; but, then, along some strange unlikely street or sudden plain, sometimes they meet.
And face each other over grief or hope or charity or belief; and know that they are brothers who by different trails sought something true.