The trail speaks volumes of
who trudged its rocks,stones, hedges, bushes....
its "physical soul".....
Who touched its existence as a Testing Guide
Who dined and flied the Tree-house Taverns and discovered
That losing everything is sometimes the greatest pleasure...
in the autumn of its trees.
And the inexpressible feeling of rejuvenation
when the rainwater washes them.......more than a spa could provide....a reincarnated soul.
Believing in Change is the only thing Permanent......a rusty traveller stamping or a delicate maiden passing by....
The sunlight washing its feet with warmth and light...
Or the scary yet beautiful moonlit darkness...with its black sheen cover....reminder of yet another dawn.
Of its conventionality as the Chosen Path
Or its "sweet" brutality as the Road Not Taken
For with the flow of Love, Life, Existence, Conscience,
this Enchantment Leads Me to Paradise.
