Thursday, April 7, 2011

Springtime on the Robert Frost Trail

What trails are these I do not know
I know I need to run them, though.
The sight of deer, the sounds of birds
Whatever else the path will show?

The breezes gently brush my hair.
A damp earth smell is everywhere.
I give my head a hearty shake
A month ago, these trees were bare.

The life within the forest grows.
Amazing feats of nature show
A different trail than those before.
A trail of dreams. Do I dare go?

To follow dreams. I heed the call.
So what if I must trip and fall.
To try and fail has no regrets.
But never to attempt at all?

A trail less traveled brightly glows.
A trail I must go down, I know.
With miles to run before I go.
And miles to run before I go.

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