There isn't a right way, there is just a way and that way is my way,
It is my road, and is made up of the cobbles of my
existence and is flanked by the wild flowers
of smiles and weeds of past tears,
There isn't a turning ahead with a sign that gives the
right directions, just lots of small paths
that invite a wandering eye and a questioning soul, and
that will all reach the same
destination, which is my destination,
I know that the air is good and my back is strong and my
companions are loyal and kind
and will hold my hand if I falter,
There isn't a way where I can be lost because home is in
my heart and it's hearth burns in my
breath and in the curve of my smile as I still find the
strength to look up and forge ahead.

by Michelle