The journey or the destination

He said, any road will get you there,

if you only walk long enough,

and his grin that hanged in the air,

weightless, lit his eyes.

It doesn't matter which way you go,

if you don’t care much.

his smile fastened back to his face,

went with the rest of his body,

when he was gone.

The lure of the open road,

unrolled to where the earth meet the sky.

Unknown encounters waiting to happen,

adventures that flow in my veins.

My eyes teary with delight, almost forgotten,

of a cold winter night, and a bedtime story.

 But at the fork in the road I halt,

like Alice, I hesitate, I ponder,

I search for his smile, now gone.

When he said pick any road, was it

right, maybe left?

Do I much care where I go?

This much I know,

the journey is getting harder and harder to cling on to,

and when the sun descends, and the day is gone,

the lights in the nearby house, the warmth of the fire,

 in the wood-stove,

is what I long for.