A Drawn Reflection
Is this what was meant for me…
The drawn reflection of a man?
Each step taken with the lightest touch,
So many they tread a new course.
At every bend, a choice was made,
Drawing circles and channels upon the land.
Choices made, lines in sand,
The track lies ahead, not behind.
I thought I’d rise, reflection true,
With head held high, over the brow.
But winds can shift and torrents flow ,
And roots will twist snap and wither.
Was the forest path already walked,
Or was it always laid, obscured?
Dreams lie like scattered leaves in the ether,
The wind whips them skyward, soaring,
Then wavering, falling - inevitably to the ground,
Shafts of sunlight pass through the branches,
Each footstep bolder, deliberate and careful.
The trodden path is worn and wild,
Shadows give way to sunlight, and light gives way to dark.
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