I’ve been here before, no more than a thousand times.
The Woodcutters Path – or so I’m told –
Where the new tracks lay and replace the old.
Yes, I’ve been here before, but I see a different line
A different bend, a new sway and unfamiliar wined,
My old track outlined in wood has nowhere to hide –
So I feel that all I’ve known, I can now not find.
That all the bark that’s still the same has somehow changed.
But I will still walk forth on my venture,
Exploring the places that I’ve known as my home.
And as I listen to the trees I hear a lecture –
On the meaning of my life when I’m alone.
That once you leave the nest and make a life abroad,
It’s impossible to know where you’ll be arriving.
Because once you leave the rest and live life on your own,
You see that what you had is lying on a small horizon.
