Roots

Where we come from, we cannot forget,
Where we are going, is the map.
But in between, being what we are not,
Is that what life is about?

The map is charted out, there are possibilities galore,
Endless sunlit paths beckon,
Even as you navigate dark, narrow corridors,
Getting there, getting there…

Then the roots that run deep,
Help you go on, hold on,
Even as the darkness deepens,
Or the pathways narrow.

Let go of the roots,
And you have floated past the corridors,
Lost the map, and the path,
Beyond… into nothingness.