The Same Path Poem by Jim Yerman

I walk the same route every morning…from this path I do not stray
because I have so many friends to greet whom I've met along the way.

There are the trees that tower to the sky…many, I'm sure, older than me
There's the crickets and the owls and a host of other animals I hear but do not see.

There are the shifting clouds that are always moving
from right to left or left to right
There are the flowers waiting for me…the ones that only bloom at night.

There are the toads and the rabbits who dart in and out of the shadows of the moon
Who either stand in one place hiding…or hop away too soon.

There are the churches with their marquis lit
with messages for the mind
There are the oranges painted by a friend
he graciously has left behind.

There are the old folks who live on the corner
the early morning enclave
who, as I round the corner
always smile and wave

There's the homeless lady who never speaks
but will occasionally smirk
There are the silent streets of a city asleep
there's the bookstore where I work.

There are the stars that guide me on this walk,
the moon with her occasional grin
There are the silent messages I send to my family
and release upon the wind.

I love this path I've chosen
love the friends I greet as on this path I roam
and I love the way this same path
always leads me home.