Actually, I guess there is really more than one way most of the time, still you have to decide which path to take to finally reach … well, whatever it could be.
Nobody knows where you will lead,
On narrow paths, through forests dark,
No one who can forecast.
Yet, how you’re going to appear,
Bending or mounting or dropping down sheer
Or losing me, indeed.
My distant voice comes with a bark:
I broke away from it at last!
Have to proceed, I cannot stay,
Roaming around, I search my way,
At no time I will hold!
Horizon is unreachable
And every goal seems far.
Will fortune meet me on the fly?
Expectations, they are high,
Still, nothing’s to unfold.
Each moment’s incomparable,
Thoughts, manifold they are.
So I almost do not dare
To lift my eyes and look and stare
How quickly things are passing by,
Streets, houses, fields, people by chance,
Paths which wind up and intersect.
Time left its trace all over me,
The end’s though still far-off to be,
‚Cause leading me is your programme.
Soon, coloured meadows catch my glance,
Autumn leaves fall and resurrect,
They’re falling so gently yet without rest,
Spending me company on my quest,
Right to the goal, to where I am.
[Read the German version of the poem here]
C. C. Holister (c) 2018 all rights reserved