from this crossroads spring a number of roads
a few run along at a galloping pace
a few walk on in a leisurely tread
one such road leads to
an imposing mansion of stone
another to a fragile house of glass
and yet another to
a thatched nest of straw
a path swoops down like a tropical storm,suddenly
another descends,blushing,unsure of its next step
I know that amongst these silken roads
there will be a way that leads to you
is that the one-the one in the distance
that suddenly swerves as it nears
or this-the lonely deserted one
the one that neither moves nor strays
I sit at this bend at the road
trying to fathom which one of these forks
might lead to you