Three Roads Diverged In a Yellow Wood

A path, a path, and a path I see
Extended now in front of me.
And in many paces there lies a bend
With a transparent start and an opaque end.
Each is thick laden by nature's green hand
And oppose in direction to promising land.
The first is well-trod and ensures happy days
But what is joy procured in such deviant ways?
The next is straightforward and easy to see,
But requires almost no effort from me.
The third path is rocky and winds purposefully
To cause me to ramble, then rise gracefully.
So here I still myself in this yellow wood
More than two paths now, where I could and I should.
I breathe in the air of the crisp apple morn
And inspire myself down the road not well-worn.

December 7, 2012

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