The path that wends its way before us <br />up the mountain side, <br /> The stones that stub and where we stumble, <br /> The pebbles that we kick because we can, <br />the rocks we climb on <br /> Just to see more heights rise wearily ahead, <br /> All stand to tell us We the Metaphor <br /> Will rule your life. <br /> <br /> The branch that blocks our path <br />but lets us dip below and laugh, <br /> The log that lies but gives us foothold, <br /> The twig we spurn to haul us <br />as we pant and sweat <br /> Just to take us further from the valley stream <br /> All cackle dryly, We the Metaphor <br /> Direct your life. <br /> <br /> The snake that slithers at our feet <br />a glimpse of gleaming black, <br /> The moth that flutters to our faces, <br /> The fox that fixes us then turns <br />and hunts the trembling mouse <br /> Just to speed our hearts and rush our faltering feet <br /> All whisper loudly, We the Metaphor <br /> Are you, our life. <br /> <br />Linda Hepner <br /> 23 August 98<br /><br />Linda Hepner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-trail/
