The Road Poem by Jim Meyerholtz

Travel the road of many turns.
Freedom, wanting in the soul does burn.

Taking time along the way
To look, feel, hear, pray.

Work for what is needed.
One by one the row is seeded.

Taking turns as they come,
Time is short, must we run?

Still the burning drives us on,
Not wanting the past to be gone.

Day ending, the designation nearer
What is wanted should be clearer.

Stop to take a look around,
To see the path, to hear the sound

All is just a Jumbled mess,
To sort it out on the way is best.

The burning will end when stopped l, ve become,
But where it ends is where it begun.

In all the row the seed grow,
To the sun their heads go.

I'm gone and help I Can't.
Some grow, some bent.

Were Ive been it matters not,
That is time left to rot.

Not the turns in the road that matter,
Only the one made better, or sadder.

The seed are all that`s left.
They are me, Only the strong are best.

To go on and not stop,
Rise to the top, fall we th a flop.

It matters not where I go,
onely the seeds that grow.