The Way Home

The calm road hangs etched Mountains frame their meanderings Know the curve of each twist and turn Along the path history has memory Structured centuries ride on it with travelers Strangers from the past rise on lofty roads Come to life without word Tumble past the mind as dust, wind and wild In a concrete thought, stones lay down on solid dreams At no cost to strangers lost in fog Drifters tumble on the wind and wild The drive remains the same in one direction Nature adorns both sides with flowers Constant vegetation is a cause to lead us on Age grows changes, covers dirt Knows great distances over the course To find some comfort at the end of it From the long journey down the road and gone at the end of it and to that end To find a way to back home