The Path Poem by Jolanta Gradowicz

Another season settled on the branches
Of the oaks down the winding path.
I hear coming sounds, some voices -
Church bells before a Mass, a child's laugh...

The cracked asphalt with rotten leaves,
Crows announcing something to the sky -
I know the road well and where it leads,
I used to walk here many a time…

Bare sprigs miss their leaves and the sun.
They seem left, but I don’t feel alone.
I marvelled at the trees each season,
I feel as if the path was my own.

The night will cover the alley soon
And will calm down the noisy birds.
Some time ago I rejoiced at this view -
Now I am trying to look forwards…

I came back here to find my past dreams –
They still fill the air in the place.
I look for them in the faint sunbeams
And on the path – the familiar space.