WL Schuett

The Path

I travel down a path 

worn to the quick with 

the memory that 

when I was young I believed 

many times I\'ve looked down this path 

many times I\'ve taken this path 

this path that leads to profound silence 

I was not truths equal 

I embrace that now 

 

when the lilacs bloom 

and the willows bend 

when the path fades out 

and the river ends 

 

when the rustle of warm air 

overthrows a melancholy night 

and dances along the river 

in a blue moon light 

 

trying to out pace my fears 

trying to find myself again 

the melding of soul and fortitude 

someday maybe I say ...

but not today