If journeys did not have crossroads,
They would have no starting point,
Or natural ending.

When I read the works of other here,
Dumb struck that I ever dare,
To offer up words and ask for your
Love and affection.

But then reminded,
Each one, each poem a crossroads,
Sends me on a new direction,
And I must leave some crumbs of me
If, my unseen home, I shall ever see,
Or ever return to, when I am voyager
No longer.