Winter Paths

It does not matter
that the bridge is covered with snow,
or that outside the temperature
has fallen below the place
where any sensible person
would stay huddled by fires.

No, this hunger of yours demands
that even in the frigid anger of winter,
you travel, you seek paths,
never sure where they might lead,
but sure somehow
the journey, even through winter,
is worth the risk.

About this poem. 

I used to fool myself that I knew where life was taking me. I no longer hold that illusion. Instead, I understand that it is a mystery and an adventure. We can embrace it. Or we can hide from it. But sooner or later it will claim us.

The picture was taken near my house, in West Pawlet, VT.

Tom