A Fork In The Road

The sun shines through the trees
Casting dappled shadows on the path
My feet crunch softly on the dirt
I come to a fork,
A parting of ways.
One trail leads off to the right,
The other to the left
Disappearing into the tree shade.
A mental coin toss,
I take the left path
And go on my way
With nary a look back.
What might have been,
What lay down the other path
I will never know.
My path remains shady and cool
As I come to a stream
Flowing out of the forest on one hand,
Running back under the trees on the other.
To me the stream exists only as I see it
A small stretch across the path.
It may run far under stars and moon,
It may end suddenly in a bog or marsh.
What more there is
Where else it goes
Are not important.
I fill my bottle and move on
What might have been is
An image fleeting and brief
As a cloud passing the sun.
Empty promises
Vain wondering.
What matters is now,
The air I breathe
The breeze I feel
The forest I see,
These are the things that matter.

The End

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