thoughts while scrambbling eggs for breakfast remembers me back in thoughts of yesterday and makes me ponder the days.

I have come a long way on life's road.
I am always looking back to see the miles my feet have trod.
yesterdays paths haunt the steps
that leave dark landmarks on my back.
they show them on my face to remember steps that turn to silver in my hair.
I recall the name of that small scope of woods where flowers bloom in spring
to beckon songbirds into it's height a place of refuge until the time in weather
says the winging path is open
to take you home again.

I have stumbled many times
on roads I had to travel
and didnt recognize the pitfalls
before I stepped upn them
to be engulfed before I knew.
Too many years I closed my eyes
and clasped deadened sound over ears
that didn't want the truth of someones words to stop my trip. Was I too old to to learn lifes lesson
or know the hard way that I learned it?
how can I answer or believe the voice,
the inner voice that brings me back
to lifes corridors of many doors
all mine to open.
Is there a safe door?
could it be forever locked against me?
I pray not, for this road has no end
and hallways cover sounds of anguish
when walls are built
and locks won't open.