Crossroads

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At this point I am lost
The crossroads calling me
and I just don’t know the way
I see pictures and images
that my hands can’t draw
Speak words and meanings
this dry pen of mine can’t form
Spy stars and moons up high
my clouded mind can’t constellate
So I will lay here a while
take refuge amongst the fallen
Til the wind carries me someplace

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8 responses to “Crossroads

    • Thanks Len, she’s called the Mud Maid and she rests (whatever the weather) at the Lost Gardens of Heligan here in England. Sometimes she is snow covered, sometimes petals and blooms, sometimes rain and leaves, sometimes dappled sunlight but there she is through it all.

  1. What an amazing picture.. So often when finding myself at a crossroads, I seem to wait to see if change will come about on its own. Loved your write on this.

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