Map Maker

Fingers brush across- 

    A map placed before the eyes 

no trails yet have been traced- 

    Suddenly you realize 

Ground must be tread- 

    The blank sheet gripped in hand 

A fellow looking ahead wont fall- 

    As ink traces land 

 

Paths don't make themselves- 

     Across this journeyed land, 

though your footprints may wash away- 

    Another searching traveler.... 

                              ...holds your map in hand

Author's Note

reviews, comments, and or musings are much welcomed :)

Reviews

[Arsh]

First off, I must appreciate the choice of your title & secondly, I'd say... The way you've played with words's very adorable. I enjoy reading such creative pieces have got some depth within their words. I'd be looking forward to reading your stuffs!

[.]

Great poem, I love the last stanza.

[EdenHarper]

thanks for reading!

[Tex]

lovely. you last stanza was wonderfully penned. It ties in your earlier words makes a wonderful point.

very well done.

[EdenHarper]

thank you for taking the time to read and comment, I appreciate it a lot :)