Saturday, October 31, 2015


Some roads we travel for pleasure,

Others from practical need.

Sometimes just for awareness,

Now & then for greed.


The old rough road has been home,

While “our sign” is long since gone.

Getting lost in Atlanta is one thing,

In pursuit of beloved song.


Now I follow a forkless path,

Bereft of motherly guide.

All I can hope & imagine,

Is longing her advice to abide.


Following these highways, byways-

Like veins & arteries on skin of Earth.

I pause to wonder what you saw,

In the days & years since my birth.


Walking alone is less than zero,

In the equation of happy life,

Belief in the golden destination,

Is where faith can reward my strife.


Decision roads are one way,

No Thermopylae Spartan came back-

Lest on his shield & spiritless.

Honor-freed of a warrior pact.


I doubt that there are easy roads,

Just illusions which we choose.

Treasure maps, routes to Elysium-

Mere masquerades in a lifetime ruse.

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