There were many roads
over hills and grass.
And many of them
I had to pass.
But one small road
in this twisting maze
caught my attention
on this hottest of days.

We had camped on the shore
of this very old lake.
And the expanse of the water
the wind wouldn't break.
So we spent the day
with an easterly wind
and hoped that at night
the breeze wouldn't end.

As the day wore on
I drifted around
to find other areas,
to travel new ground.
That's when I noticed
this new road so small
that veered to the right,
seemed to go nowhere at all.

But as I walked
and heard the birds sing,
I felt sort of peculiar
and noticed one thing.
This road was lacking,
there was just something less.
It seemed out of place;
different from the rest.

It wasn't the insects
or the animals small;
they all had their moment
and in each place seemed to fall.
It was in my mind,
but just not brought out.
I had to think hard
to remove all the doubt.

Why was it different
and out of its place?
Mind mind was still thinking
and continued to race.
I knew more than ever
it was something I felt;
And wondered why nature
this queer hand to me dealt.

When I stopped in the road
and started to go back,
I kept wondering why
I was so much off track.
But this road would not beat me,
I would not let it be so.
If I only kept looking
the answer would show.

And just as I figured,
as I stood in a bend,
the answer came to me
as it does in the end.
What made this road different?
I had wanted to know.
I had traveled a road
where the wind doesn't blow.