Written on the road to Reno

In the mountains there are signs
many instructing to slow
On the freeway there are signs
directing where to go
So many roads...
What path do I travel
a query omnipresent in the troubadours mind
There are signs in the cemetery
do any tell you where you are going
or where you have been?
There are signs
The stars are read
a celestial highway
as are palms the individual path
Tea leaves tell you what you have drank
The signs of the trails of tears
are eyes weary from birth
The signs of love simple to discern
Unabashed adoration springing forth
unreluctant delight wearisome burden
or breathless wonder
To wonder is to love the curious
so wander is the first step
every wanderings mark is a sign
and thus so are the mountains