Hung upside down in life
Thus causes grief and strife
Trusting the path before us
Hoping the twigs show the way
Looking around branches and turns
Assessing truth by the Moon
Finding a crone in the forest
Displaying palms up, which way?
Pointing towards the path
Overgrown thickets and thorns
A rabbit hops through brush
And a fawn bids good morn.
SO, can this be the way of the journey?
I ask myself carefully discerning
Doubting the friendliness by reasons
Knowing that truth plays out
In time, the greens become greener
Or they, whither into somber grey
Who knows which path to bare-
Footed in one direction to go
For choices sometimes many
However, numerous are the footprints of soldiers
But, a pilgrim sojourns and; then knows.
And I asked the witch if this was right?
She nodded with a toothless smile
Any which away brings fright.
Trust your gut and when you leave
Please, do turn out the light.
She winked and said, “That will be one hundred dollars and fifty.”
My smile twisted and sneered, “I could have done that.”
Slowly I drooped my money in her hat.
She smirked, Yes, you could have, but you didn’t. She then nodded and bid goodbye.