Paths

Paths like roads
but paved in life
and worn by souls
and love and strife

and cracked by loss
and patched with care
littered with guilt
blown in on the air

wetted with tears,
remorseful rain,
and frozen from
the constant pain

of Winter deep
- it feels no more -
and hides, the path,
under icy floor

until the Spring
does start anew
and souls and love
come passing through

and patch the cracks
and warm the cold
and clear that guilt
which has grown old,

lose their way
only when forgotten.