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Friday, February 6, 2015

Path (Winding Ever Onward)

Rating: 5.0
I follow, but I'm not a follower.
I see the path, winding ever onward,
Over stream, stone and shrub,
And I walk it, unflinching, almost devout.

We take it in, yet we're not taken,
By its beauty. Pine, birch and aspen.
Our steps distrub, leaves, moss and snow.
Breaking twigs, but not the silence.

You are alive, but yet not living,
Untill you walk these woods, they say.
Untill you've lost your sense of direction,
You will never go find your own way.
Henrik Berg
Topic(s) of this poem: walking
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COMMENTS
Rajnish Manga 07 February 2015
The mysticism runs through the poem from top to the bottom and is coupled with the glimpses of charming nature all around. Following lines open up hundred and one ways to enrich our lives: Untill you've lost your sense of direction / You will never go find your own way. Thanks.
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