Oh the road familiar known,
I glance in recollection.
A wanderer strides alone,
Intent in his reflection.
I ask in haste, “Are you the one?”
He nods in affirmation.
My shoulders sink in bitter relief,
At odds with each sensation.
“Oh the road familiar known.”
I cry to my companion.
With half a smile, he nods again,
Suggesting his compassion.
I wait with longing for a word,
Some response to trepidation,
He simply stands in front of me,
Not changing his expression.
“What will you?” I ask, with irritation,
To break his piercing gaze,
“Let go,” he says with forlorn caution,
Then points the opposite way.
“But, oh the road familiar known,”
I cry again in earnest.
“Tis the past, the seeds are sown,
Before you lies your interests.
For if you tarry any longer,
You will not be fit to see,
The difference between what’s behind you,
And what you’re meant to seek.”
“But oh, the road familiar known.”
I meekly say in sorrow.
He shakes his head and turns away,
Heading for the morrow.
I’m left alone, now knowing truth,
Confined and pertinacious,
Hoping for some validation,
So vainly efficacious.