Wandering Soul Poem by Ernesto Barca

In threadbare shoes we travel wide,
Aching feet on gravel grind
One, then the other, and over again
Until a flat crossing we find.

One step, then another and so forth we go,
On the way to the way that crosses our way
And leads us in darkness,
From all that we know.

Before my feet some pathways cross
That way, or the other, or one of the rest,
When one I choose I reject another
Nobody can tell me which way is best.

Which black stridden grass to grind,
Such paths of storied kind,
Or shall I go where the grass is crisp
Where footsteps of o'ers I shan't find.

The fall of the dice can't know,
Which way to go, what choice to make
My journey starts where others turn
Courage I now must not forsake.

What and where will I reach I wonder,
Answers you cannot give
For I must follow my path, I know,
My life is mine to live.