Tuesday, May 8, 2012

A road well ridden

On the road

On my own

Out of earshot

of other folks.

Free to stop to hear

pond frogs chirping.

I pause to take a picture

of animals along the way

The cattle stop and look

then hurriedly saunter away.

They are used to people

who quickly pass on by.

They must think it strange

to see someone stay.

I took to the path

somewhere in the middle.

I will follow it till I don't

and the path will stretch on without me.

Nothing binds me to travel

where I do not wish to go.

The road rises with the ridge

Until it meets a cliff.

A tunnel carves a passage

through the ancient rock.

It s entrance is dark as night.

The exit far from view.

Make your way with faith and a light

and then see sunlight anew.

Along the way I'll take breaks

as my body tells me to.

I hope to leave before

the journey breaks my body.

The sound of wind through mid-spring trees

arises like a choir of leaves.

Whatever water rested there

is shaken free by the breeze.

I take a detour for shelter's sake

as grey clouds turn black.

Nature has the final say

on how long I ride this road.

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