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.