There were so many paths,
so many people and signs.
The Dark Path\'s entrance lit
with neon signs.
The Light Path not so well
illuminated, nor trod.
But that was then
and now has come down
to just a single path
to signs I know
though I\'m not sure
what language.
Paths cross
without intersecting
and we speak,
passing bits of road signs,
hazards, and conditions.
One tells of a narrow bridge
over a deep chasm
he walked the edge of.
I wonder, it was something
I\'ve passed over,
the scene is familiar
though the memory faint.
My path is clear
though the way ahead
is not.
A singular path, though
others I meet
tell the same of theirs.
I\'ve had choices
and chosen, I hope,
wisely. And now
there is no need
to choose, just travel.
