The Path of the Soul

On the winding road
Eyes can’t behold
The further point
Of lack or gold;

Upon this road
Though sight is flawed
We cast a net
Of all we laud.

Beneath the feet
sharp rocks and gravel
Give pause to lessons
On the travel.

And supposing that
a blander road
Could be accessed
With easy load;

Which passage calls
For marrow fate
As we forge ahead
With steadfast gait?

Whereas weary flesh
Seeks linear stroll,
The winding way
Is the path of the soul.

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