The Silent Spectator

I sometimes wonder

Where you begin and where you end?

The pitch dark road underneath

My barefoot

The trails that meander

Amidst the pines, firs, birches

The road crossing silently

Over the bubbly brook 

The path that never changes 

With changing seasons

The corridor that is imprinted with

Innumerable unmarked 

Footprints, Stories, Emotions.

Stories of travelers

Wanderers 

Stories of love, stories of hate

Stories of union and parting ways,

You've seen all 

Yet you utter not a word. 

Somewhere cracked

Somewhere repaired

Somewhere you merge 

With that bridge

Somewhere lit up

Somewhere dark

Somewhere you join 

The roadside park

Somewhere snow-covered

Somewhere bare

With unmoved lips

You watch the world's glare.

You see the people

You hear their tales

You enjoy the laughter

Of the energetic kids

Yet you utter not a word

Like a mute spectator

You flow relentlessly

Unscathed by the 

Lurking dangers

The lashing rains smash you

The icy falls carpet you

The scorching sun

Parch your soul

The fluffy translucent cotton

Fails to render relief 

You try to resist nature's attack

You struggle, 

Yet you utter not a word.