The Path

Footsteps fall elsewhere.

The plants reach across the way

Time has forgotten it ever was.

Distant views bury any trace.

At one time, the only way.

A distant time there it was.

Fallen on hard times, maybe.

Left behind for better options.

Clear cut ways leave nothing of chance.

That’s their flaw in reasoning.

Chance is life in greatest sense.

Hope rides obscure rails.

Shadows cast from enlightenment.

Looking through the forest for trees.

But following the spirit first.

Nature creates blank canvas to be filled.

Walking on its acrylics and pastels.

Tapestry shows the path clear.

My footsteps will have little company.


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