Searching for the Meadow
As I stumble along
This path called life
I reach out for hand holds
And tree trunks to lean upon.
I keep my eyes to the ground
So I can stay on my feet
So I can see the roots and
Divots that threaten my balance.
I keep my head bobbing and weaving
To avoid the low hanging branch
And the misty web of the spider
That covers my face in silk.
I stumble along
This path called life
Searching for sunlight and
The flower-covered meadow.
The meadow where I can finally rest
My head, my feet, my hands
And lay in the tall green grass
Surrounded by the fragrance of flowers.
Roy W. Backes
© 2021
Roy W. Backes - Poetry 