Simile of a Poem's Nature

Poems are like flowers. They bloom, some more timely than others, with your emotions faithfully supplying the necessary nutrients. Some of these are pleasant to ponder. Some are tear-inducing in their beauteous light. Some are repulsive merely by common opinion——a weed——and are reduced to nothing by the herbicide known as white-out or by its cousin the delete key. And sometimes, though rarely in my own case, you may find them naively squished between the pages of a favorite book, often one piteously misplaced much too long ago, in an attempt to keep their allure of heart-felt meaning perpetually cherished.

We have taken this path by choice

I found this in an old High School notebook.


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Arms linked, we walk down a path
never visited by our own foot treads.
You point at the trees, moss-enveloped and strong.
I gaze up to the sky’s vast expanse.
We have taken this path by choice.

Arms linked, we walk in the rain
that chills our skin and forms many puddles.
You slide your toe across the surface of a pool.
I laugh and skitter through a newfound stream.
We have taken this path by choice.

Arms linked, we walk through the heat
of a sweltering summer we are meant to enjoy.
You wipe the sweat from my brow, then your own.
I complain, though my groans will change nothing.
We have taken this path by choice.

Arms linked, we walk among trees
whose many colors gleam in a sun-baked light.
You twirl a copper-rust-gold leaf; tear stains glint.
I fear for you, and brush your eyes dry.
We have taken this path by choice.

Arms linked, we walk with the cold
weathering, eroding at the bond we share.
You turn away, but secretly glance back.
I push from you, but my hand still holds your grip.
We have taken this path by choice.

Arms linked, we walk together
Passed frost had drawn us to warmth, together.
You smile and express silent gratitude, forgiveness.
I grin, resonating acceptance and apology.
We have taken this path by choice.

This path is Trust.

This choice is Love.