Going My Way
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thick mist …
breath of dusk …
bearing its own tales
the yellow bricks wind away
swallowed by the brume
fallow footprints, long since faded
but I cared not to trace them anyway ...
vacant souls searching for the
most basic of virtues
leading another young pilgrim to
fates unknown ... and unnoted
(the fog itself endows more guidance)
… they never returned.
crossroads ...
proverbial AND actual
my instructions were clear, as always
the counsel, lucid and lettered
yet life has never borne the conventional
courses for me ...
naught a prevailing wind or
timid tack to weigh …
regrets?
real as rain ...
but they bear conscience and wisdom -
grateful, am I, for each.
night …
is closing in like a promise
the forest, deep, yawns forsaken
the lad in me longs for a sweet dream -
a fanciful lullaby
and final blink of lashes, soft …
but ambition is a jealous mistress
and she wrings complacency and excuse
from the hems of my spirit -
legacy and contrition dance the
dark like fireflies
love's wages howl in the night
chilling my thoughts, my marrow ...
my blood.
the choice …
was made for me, long ago …
before these serpentine paths were
packed and paved, the placement
of my steps was ordered …
that road untraveled - of red brick and border
was written at time's inception upon
the binding of my soul
and there shan't be another ...
going my way.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2022
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