The Road

The 

Road came at me

Sold me on its length and curves,

Told me of tales drenched in thunderous rain that

Mold from the mountain sides and slip embedded in the mind. Without a

Load to carry - here to there - and from there, to hear of

Bold bastions carved from rock, fighting the 

Cold air flinging and spinning across the tundra, whipping its

Fold over crocuses and wild daisies dancing, petals of

Gold swaying after each wondrous wake of discovery that could

Hold me in place. Yet I tread this road coming at me with an

Old idea of mine that grew from the insidious

Node at the back of my mind, whispering its nudge of a new

Mode of thinking, of walking this way to find something

Rolled out for me. This wild roving

Road came at me, carved open the land to show me the

Lode of life moving through me, step by step.