Fractured light glints off yellow-cobbled stones
Of paths that zag and meander -
Leading hither and beckoning yon.
Lure of heart's desire at road's end, that readily
Obscurs a dark and evil
Wicked witch flying above our heads.
Time but an enigma before us. Our innocence
Harbored in visions of bejeweled cities.
Encumbrances lost over a rainbow too distant to grieve our strides.
Yet, with rubied, carefree steps and
Eager eyes that
Look forward, not back
Lest we glimpse the ill choice of
Our journey's first footfalls
Buddied with a scarecrow who unravels
Riddles; a tin man with sentimental heart
Inside an empty kettle; and a
Cowardly lion without vim and verve -
Kindred souls join to find the wonderful wizard of OZ.
Route of small beginnings
On a street in Munchkinland to at last
Approach Emerald City's lauded greatness - curtained in smoke and mirrors -
Deceived by what was never there.
Hopes quickly melt
On truth’s cleansing waters. A
Mulligan of ill-placed beliefs
Effaced in fallacy
All heart’s desires seem dark and void of purpose until
Glenda asks we think the
Answer – the lesson our yellow-brick road has taught.
“It’s that nothing’s really ever lost,” we say, “If
Not first found in our own backyard.”
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