A Dirt Path

Behind my house a dirt path grows, like a web laced round a rose. It’s been my friend all my first years, healed my heart and dried my tears. In canvas shoes, I walked the sky, on that path I learned to fly, To my hidden inner land, a universe in a grain of sand. Through the fields into the trees, into a world nobody sees A place to run a place to hide, a quiet nest knit deep inside Where I could stay long as I walk, and to myself connect and talk. There sort the truth from craft and lies, and watch the eagle as it flies. Curse and yell my wrath relieve, there I grant myself reprieve Or lift a stone and peer within, a brand new fantasy begin. Freedom rises from its dust, alone I walked with whom I trust. I guess a greedy man am I, to claim the road the fields the sky To be alone is perfect rest, otherwise; an endless test; Why are you not like me? Be like me or do not be. The path; a silent open hand, welcomes me to freedom land. Down its crease I gladly glide; a seashell on the rolling tide. There no narrow razor eyes, no ceaseless hammer headed whys, That pry and pound pull and poke, for no more cause than to provoke, They tease and pick to pass the time, please take me to my path sublime. Where silent shadows trail behind, to see what paradise I find.