crossroads

in and out  
high and low  
the road,  
so it goes...  
in ancient ways  
the old gods did say  
for to them, i find, i pray.  
nature takes its turn  
understanding such, the more i urn.  
i grasp with my hands, everything i can  
make sense if willed, yet the road so far, yet I’m just a man.  
cross roads, bring, and so i do meet.  
each stone that passes, i pick and cherish and keep.  
ride with me in my pocket awhile.  
nestle there in its comfort, my child.  
narrow, a path which has given me to seek  
i have withered it away  
but now it is their wish, again, i play.  
to all four directions, i kneel, i pray.