No Road Among the Stars

Two roads diverge in a wood. Can't say I didn't

care for either, but neither did they reach out to greet me.

Two roads diverge in a wood. And I —

I chose instead to make my own,

snaking through the willow trees, splashing past the stream,

and nothing's ever seemed so perfect. So alive.

Each leaf waved and called my name. I've never

ever heard anything so beautiful. Birdsongs like lullabies

and sunshine like earth's own embrace.

Sometimes I'd find the two roads again, but I —

I was happy to keep to mine.

The rivers carried me, cleaned me when I wore out,

the moonlight guarded my dreams,

but most of all my wanderings brought me wings.

Two roads diverge in a wood, but I leave no footprints.

Two roads diverge in a wood, but every wood has a sky

like diamonds calling me home.

I've forgotten the taste of pain, once like fruit

and friendship

and it never goes away. But still I've forgotten.

I've swallowed it whole, so what else is there?

There are no roads among the stars, no trees

to block my path.

Sometimes I miss the leaves, the stream, the birdsongs,

but

bliss requires no body.

The universe sings on though it needs no voice, like

how it's everything and nothing at once.

Everything is the road, the only road and every road,

every choice and none. I only took the road even less traveled

because there's only one me to take it.

And that makes one hell of a difference.