Broomhilda's Poetry Blog

.::My life::.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

The Path

An overgrown pathway in a wooded glen,
I follow it.
Through brambles and thorns a clearing appears,
I enter it.
A weather worn stone standing in the wind,
I go to it.
A plot overgrown with weeds and decay,
I sit near it.
Why a sentinel in this forgotten place,
I ask of it.
The sun beating down I close my eyes,
I dream of it.
Of life and love of death and rebirth,
I learn of it.
All are connected through the light of life,
I finally get it.
I found this path I was meant to take,
I'll walk upon it.
I will learn the lessons it has to teach,
I'll treasure it.
When I come to the end and journey home,
I will remember it.

posted by broomhilda at|11:32 AM|

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Some people live life in the fast lane. I live in oncomming traffic. This is my Poetry blog. It's mostly crap, but one or two showcase my brilliance. Be sure to check my home blog and sign my guest book. Feel free to leave a comment.

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