Endless Trials

How like a trivial song that is unknown
A madness of mystery that is embraced
That like a juniper bush
Upon the cliffside hill shall it sing
Where does it end?
What makes its heavenly hymn a mystery?

The sound of whispers from the wind coming from the part
Or perhaps someone shakes the bush with glee
A simple look upon something indentifying
That was the goal to find its point
Never to see that one sought
Only to make something that has become lost

Defining like a pointer from the sky
A beacon
A memory
A hint of the lost
The step through the woods
That path has been made

A trek to begin
The journey underway
The paths divided
Suddenly six ways to go
All that lead to a sunday long past
Time is in flux, but never to be outdone

Only recalled and remembered
Like a bad memory that is staining
Hurting and found to be forged
A collaboration of the worst and the best
Bringing something truly horrible and incredible forth
That thing there shall hold thee long

In an embrace that will not be let go
Only clutched, hugged, and clinched
Unwilling to part from that which is life
The destiny that ye shall always avoid
But never will its phase stop following you
It is the pursuer and how romantic it is to hunt

To find thee enfolded by its arms, infinitely wide like soft coils they find
To bring a form close to its chest, held as if the grip were loving and well meanining
To be caressed tenderly by tendrils, that which feign a beloved whisper of how okay it shall be
There when the method to its madness becomes known, still it holds on and watches over shoulder
For the future is never kept or known, only that it is a set of trials without end

For this path and choices of known or unknown paces, of an undetermined length...that is life.