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Poem

This was the road he took
Despite the light strewn of leaf
I can tell
The wind has not disturbed his footsteps a lot
He has left for us a trail of grief
And destiny hanging between earth and hell.
I too thought it was less travelled,
Fooled by the overgrowth of bush;
I should have factored in all that rain
The eyes make sometimes without knowing why.
It is mostly rock in parts,
And at the beginning none can tell,
But this was the road he took.

There is an old cigarette box
Scuffed up by the toe stumbling through dim light
Someone put the last one between the teeth there
Satisfied that this is the way to go.
And here candy paper a couple:
Perhaps a child, a young lady, or a pregnant woman
There must be a child in it somewhere.
Adults too make a litter though
Mindless of small creatures living here
Who has no taste for what we willingly lose.
I smell urine here and know it is not them;
Was it fright or just a natural urge?
Good thing the wild mint grows nearby.
The bees buzz there also:
Seems honey and sting are in inseparable company.

This is the road he took
I follow each daunting step
And feel the struggle of the will
The sudden bump and jolt of pride
The slippery hill
Where after climbing up to heaven
We come to earth again.
After the silence
The tumulting hossanah for praise.
What other road would such a man
As we thoughtful men are
Ever could have taken?

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