When I was still too young to know life's truths
they came to greet me as old friends might meet
somewhere on a quiet country road, near dusk
and after many years apart, roving separately
in search of life's adventures later to be shared,
not quite as tall tales to be told in fading light
as old friends strolled in search of somewhere
welcoming - but not entirely as the gospel either;
not when you've barely crossed the threshold,
barely made your own way into the world
down any road at all ahead of you, where life,
you could still see, stretched out enticingly.
And as we walked and talked, some truths
spoke more than others yet I walked untroubled,
listening less than carefully but certain that no words
that they could say to me that day could sway me
from my purpose or make me hesitate or think again
to wonder what the journey might be worth or cost.
.
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