The path laid in a forest,
but I didn’t care. It’s dirt
I crushed beneath my sandals.
Monkeys, and other primates,
jumped down from trees.
Snakes coiled themselves
around my ankle. He bruised
my heel, I, in return,
squashed his head. The long
walk home was filled with
perils and dangers. A bushel of
roses blocked my advance. Stepping
through the thorns amidst flowers
was a difficult task indeed. Multiple
forks split the path and separated
my thoughts. The schism split
my heart. The sun crept down,
with it the morning; the moon rose,
with it the night. Shadows lingered
behind me and I could not look
back. Forward is the only way
I can travel. This path through
the forest is an uphill battle.

This poem is part of the collection "Heart and Soul of a Thinker" by A. Jarrell Hayes

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