Finding You is a task with no end. This trail I wander down nips at my heels. I see another bend, beside it another trail. The trail is dark, The roots, over grown. Where will it go down? Yes, I could go down it. But I found naught but disappointment the last time. These trails lead to fields, fields of no fruit. Every field is fruitless, Every pursuit pointless. How do I get to the path? How do I find my way? The sun chases. As my shadow lengthens, I will reach yet another crossroad. This direction is prettier, this, is safer. A third choice offers fruit. Is it a lie, as they all have been? Perhaps, it is the trail I have not seen. I am now too frantic to decide. I can only think of the road I’m on. These road side vendors seduce me. A man with a cart of trinkets is no match- I say. But I will give him the coins, And I will play with the trinkets along the way. They occupy my hands, but not my head, Nor the Heart. The trail will be all I have to show for you.
I’m still experimenting with making WP more accessible to poetry. I tried to copy and paste this from word. I sort of like it like this, in prose. I think the senteces have a different feel, than if they were still in free verse. I modifed one or two punctiuation points. Otherwise, I left it as is.
~R
