Road to the Dark Trees

I am not alone on this road
that leads to the dark trees.
Winter corn accompanies me
and the stars that come
to dwell among the rows at night.
There are days when the gargoyle of doubt
decides to join me on my way,
but soon he tires of his own ramblings
and disappears down some dusty trail
muttering to himself.

The truth is I’ve lost my taste for fear
for so long I’ve treated it
like some long lost relative
I owed time, money or room.

Other days the soul stands up inside me
like the moon rising from the corn saying:
“All the days of your life are a gift to the ones you love!
All the days of your life are a gift to the ones you love!
Keep on! Keep on!”