There were two cliffs,
both linked by a single bridge.
Beneath it was a cave,
a path that too connected the sides.
Have one climbed the mountain to cross the bridge,
he’d take an eternity to journey across.
But if he took the one most trodden,
it would be quick—
yet there would be no journey.
For the sake of convenience,
the cave became unnecessary,
and the link grew shorter.
But something else—one thing, or two—
was quietly missed.
This was all but trivial to the man
who journeyed on either side.
For he had made two tables,
meant for drinking,
for seeing the stars,
chatting with souls,
and holding fleeting intentions.
No one stays in one place.
But those who do
are always the ones who wait.
No comments:
Post a Comment