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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
written in 2003 the story/poem discribes through paths and nature an observation of the life I lived out side.

Submitted: May 15, 2007

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Submitted: May 15, 2007



I went walking through a maze one day totaly at ease and eager to see what awaited me.

In the midst of early morning, in the middle of the maze, a deep fog settled down.

Now seeing wasn't easy and yet I didn't mind.

I followed on a path of wild and crazy flowers growing everywhere amongst themselves

In places that they shouldn't be and yet they looked at ease,

As if everything was fine--just growin' goin' WILD!


In somewhat of a daze, but with excitement and trepidation,

I traipsed all over this uncut woven maze as if I were a child again

Running through a field of tall green grass.

There were lots of freshly cut paths with everything aranged just so.

I"d been on those paths before too many times and never getting anywhere.

There were people calling for me to follow them

As if it were some sort of line and I had fallen out of step.

But I am not an ant to march in tune step by step.

I run, I jump, I skip, I dance; I push them all away, so I have room for chance.

Suddenly a storm broke through and blew things all around,

Loud thunder, lightning flashing, I was stricken to the ground.

Now the storm is over,

the paths have blown away

I am lost not to be found

and I shall cherish it this way!

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