The shadowed path

I walk a wooded path where green abundance calls, Fragrant, near enough to tempt, yet always out of reach. Often in shadow, glimpses of sunlight whisper of what’s to come. The path eludes me, hidden beneath last spring’s promise now fallen and frail. Sometimes I lose my way when fallen giants, pungent with decay, block the path, or depths of grasping mud force me through the brush. Yet I press on, my steps refusing doubt. Guided by north, fixed beyond the forest, I know I can find my path again. My path may be difficult, Yet the road is worth the burden of its miles. My path is honor and my north, integrity.