Ute Pass

I have walked the wide path
and the one known for narrow;
I have cut with hands like knives a swath
Through(for) all that might try to follow.
But my reluctance goes unnoticed at the well
And even at this late hour it is still too early to tell
Whether we will make it to the end
Or if the end will meet us in the middle.
The trail does not go on forever.
We try to see through a glass darkly,
But our words can barely reach around to our ears,
Our weak wisdom withers under the weight of years.
And still I wake with the Dawn and walk the path you tread--
I water with the Buffalo and Fawn and share their bread.
The same roots that reach for your feet
The same stones that touch your boots
Have reached for mine
and touched my mind.
I have worn many a shoe.
Do not stop or stoop to follow those who quit,
Neither fear the trail or the end of it.
For I am waiting for you.

2004