Paths less traversed
grown over by neglect
weeds, bushes dispersed
no design to detect
snow softly falling
from a cold gray sky
birds song is calling
like a sweet lullaby
evidence of beings nearby
silent and skilled, hard to see
their markings do not lie
perhaps nestled beneath the tree
just my presence has altered this space
my breathing, my dreaming
have entered this place
legends distort my meaning
they give fear and give chase
through paths with snow now gleaming
My body here, is out of place
but my soul, it is beaming
I feel my heart begin to race
walking softly in the wood
one step
two step
three
It is only then that I know I should
look about me and see
beyond the wood
beyond the tree
wishing I see I could
wondering where they could be
and yet, it seems that I am blind
can not see what my soul does know
they fear my tread they fear my kind,
and so i pause before i go
ever so slow
ever so slow
walking softly in the snow
orignal poem
by A. Cornforth
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