Lost in Thought

I'm acutely aware of my awesome

Incompitence.  I walk a forked path with two

road signs for every inch of pavement.

Some are clearly marked:

"This way to brilliance and glory",

"Turn left for certain disaster",

"Next service plaza: 63 miles".

With so many directions in mind

I blunder blindly off the path into the bramble

Where the only signs are tree 

moss and squirrel scat blanketing

tired branches napping at the feet

Of motherly spruce.  Such signs are 

beyond me.  And so I am lost.

But, o to be lost!

The noise of the woods, the fiery debates

of spring chicks, the distant crack of wooden

thunder, the triumphant lyrics of

classically trained amphibians, says

More than the blathers of in-

Consequential words of the English

language spilling from mouths

Like windows, as if someone forgot

to cut the lights when they left.

Now their audible light pollutes

our eyes (ears?).

So I escape by getting lost

in my own stupendous incompitence.