It’s a mighty long road that has no end.

It’s a mighty empty world without a friend.

A path strewn with successes or failures may appear endless,

Yet travelable, until you discover yourself alone and friendless.

It’s a mighty long road that has no end

That winds past milestones so often ignored—

Graying hair, creaking bones, backs that are sore.

It’s a road that at times seems impassable because of debris

Left by unanticipated life-storms we could not see.

Although the road is of predetermined length,

Making it to the end is not a matter of strength.

It is the balance kept as the road stretches through

Bend after bend, twisting and turning.

No detours—the mighty road does have an end.

©2010 Rosalie M. Taylor