Travel Poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen

We come.
We go.
Like the wheels on the trail
we leave traces that can be erased.
Like a sparkle in the sky,
we appear and disappear.
Like a seed on the ground,
we sprout and die.

Every road we take
shows the starting point in life.
Every step that we make
leads to the end of time.

Whether we go forward
or we move backward
our travel bears fruits
only our heart and mind
can keep as priceless treasures.