The young girl stands at the crossroad.
She arrives every morning with the sun.
The shy farmers nod on their way to the fields.
Their hearts falter when,
Too early they arrive.
The sun not yet touching the horizon.
She is gone before their weary journey home.
Her memory, but a distant childhood dream;
Of the open world and the mystery of love.
For her part she waits for someone
Who lost her way.
Gone too soon
Taking the wrong path.
She will return; Heart weary or wise.
The two are one.
So she waits.
Long enough to feel the sun’s rays ‘
Warm her face.
She must go on;
The day must be survived.
The wind whispers;