Crossing Paths

 

The path that I build, through the jungle of life,

Is mine to fashion, by means of hardship and strife.

It has not always been straight, nor even true,

Yet it has brought me, so much closer to you.

 

In my childhood years, I meandered about,

Pressured in a direction, which made me stout.

Not knowing where to go, or whom to see,

Always searching for answers, to who I should be.

 

As I walk along, passing faces in the crowd,

Some make me sad, and yet others proud.

Lifeís journey thus far, full of flowers and bees,

Experiences that are molding me, into who I will be.

 

Like the day a manís path, abruptly crossed mine,

We walked together for a while, passing the time.

Wondrous tales of his life, he did weave for me,

Full of far away places, and lifeís possibilities.

 

He seemed so content, and happy to share,

Our findings of the world, we did compare.

His days where full of friends, and even some foes,

Regrets he had few, except for a cancer that grows.

 

His road seemed arduous, through mine eyes,

And he knew he had little time, to view further skies.

When we finally shook hands, and went our separate ways,

I wondered if I would see him, in coming days.

 

As I continued down my path, his song drifted to me,

I now hold it close, sharing it with others who would see.

The true heart of that man, I take to my grave,

Inspiration he has given me, by staying so brave.

 

Onward I travel, for others I expect to meet.

Adding their songs, to my own melodious beat.

For the trails I cross, give me greater insight,

Comforting me, even through the blackest of nights.

 

* In remembrance of Gary Syroid *

 

By Todd Jones - Copyright 2002