A Fork Between Two Places Poem by Robert Stoddard

There is a place where doubt may dwell
Where loneliness will tend to swell
A place with crowds that aren’t enough
Their empty hugs are always rough
A gathering place of vast numbers
Where joyful hope just slumbers
A place of which is easy to reach
And failure is common with attempted breach

Here I’m faced with humble choice
Only guided by still small voice
The left one’s easy with many turns
But filled with things for which bodies yurn
The other’s straight with constant grade
Climbing mountains with its Iron Maid
If I chose this I may fall to another
I will try to follow my Sacred Brother

Because there’s another place, much more swell
Where love is as an eternal well
A place where the hearts are tough
Yet none are at all rough
A gathering place for the valiant few
Where happiness is always true
A place only possible for us to reach
If blood white robes we wear and preach.