By Denise Marsh
Sometimes the roads run clear;
the paths are perfectly lined
with roses and sparkly butterflies.
The fresh air matches the perfection
and “all is good”.
Sometimes the roads are muddy-
We trip on every weed.
The roses have lost their beauty.
The butterflies fearful of the rain,
surrender to hiding “mode”.
Sometimes the starting point
alternates and zig-zags;
Each road displaying their “gifts”.
Yet the struggle is imminent;
We encounter a dead standstill.
Sometimes the starting point
Comes at the END of each road.
The longer the pause,
The greater the distance.
The starting point is up to YOU.