If I could in one word describe my road,
without digression through its tangent routes
or cataloging each and every node
that might be seen were I to map it out,
a single thing that clearly would detail
both how the trail and I got to this place,
despite the odds predicting I would fail
or in the search for truth, fall on my face,
then naming it would be of little use.
For if in a small segment of a line
the infinite whole world can be contained,
we may as well collect words as refuse
and think our days in study, wasted time,
a sentence where just empty space remains.
24 JUN 2004