The path to the right –
the soil is embossed with roots –
the other, a heartened roundabout;
I am told I cannot take both at once.
Which path is to be –
the universal or the protest, to define me?
An eyeglass to the schism,
cuts of the same prism – with one Light.
The two paths are one Way,
different dawns to the same day –
we all have a mountain to climb –
but either way is all about Him.