A path

A path is not always straight, and never quite clear.
My footprints leave marks in the soft earth, but with no guide,
where shall I tread?
My tracks split off along the way,
wet,
fresh,
and unsure.
Some trail quickly,
others reluctantly,
back to my life’s muddled road.
Some, go ever on their way, still walking beside me.
My path is hidden, that I know.
Full of shadows, full of hope.
Do I trust my heart to guide me?

 

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