Where you want to go
none preceded. Your road
meanders, switchbacks, descends.
All stories compare unlike to like.
Walk in another's footsteps, and you
hop, awkward, missing your gait.
Songs sung of the path are a sort of
math, a one and one make two;
your one cannot carry one division
or addition, your number only has
one column and a little roof.
That's not to say you may not
stride among the kind,
the willing and the watching,
the finding and the found;
you will be with friends,
but you must remember:
none are you and you
are none.
Roman Ryan 