They like steadfast
brave soldiers
stand tall guarding
my entrance into
unforeseen territory
they protect and shield me
I speak of the gigantic regal trees
their branches reach out to me
roots sturdy deep in ground
the fallen leaves
trampled and crunched
rough cushions
beneath the soles of my tattered shoes
as I tread on my life long journey
the heavy fog and vague mist
cloud the lane
as I walk on my journey
I often face trials and tribulations
storms cause me to twist and turn
disguises worn
to cover inner torment
my journey has its battles
I forge ahead
accepting both the good and the bad
As I journey on
I am assured
that the loyal trees are forever strong
they like steadfast brave soldiers
will protect me until the end of my journey
Only in quietness do we possess our own minds and discover the resources of the Inner Life.
- Helen Keller -
Poems are words that take you through three kinds of doors: closed doors, secret doors, and doors you don't know are there.