Pathways
Stones and pebbles
around me lie,
grass and weeds
seek out my ties,
sometimes wide
and sometimes narrow,
my being can be
just a farrow.
Sometimes straight
and often bending,
my life appears
as never ending.
I can be smooth
I can be rough,
at times its hard
and also tough.
I show the way
from here to there,
which way they
go I do not care,
for those that
follow my dark ribbon
are no concern
of mine to think on.
Often leading people
astray,
come what may,
they tread my way,
for they know
not where they go,
treading gently
along my row.
But as with all
things there is an end,
it may be now
or at the next bend,
seeking that which
is not there,
striving to carry
the load they bear.
And so with greatness
and with stealth,
life's pathway
climbs from birth to death.
For some the path
is hard to follow,
others find it
wide with sorrow.
For is not life
based on tomorrow,
that which never
can be borrowed?
The end is where
it all began
and makes another
path for man.
(C) Copyright 1999
BOB KING
All Rights Reserved
